Anonymity
by AquilusNyx
Summary: The war is over and Harry needs to escape. Remus decides the Boy-Who-Lived needs a chance to be a normal kid, and whisks him away to a small town in Ohio. Drama ensues. Harry/Kurt, AU after 5th Book and Duets, rated for language and violence.
1. Prologue

One year after Sirius Black's death at the Battle of the Ministry (the first true battle of the Second War), it was over. Voldemort had fallen at Harry Potter's hands, as prophesised, and the Light prevailed.

(Harry's right hand was shattered and his face was shredded and bleeding. He didn't even cast a Killing Curse; he'd just rushed up to Voldemort and stabbed him with Gryffindor's sword as curses flew around him. Voldemort's eyes changed from red to blue before he died. Harry didn't know what that meant. He just knew he wasn't going to get the image out of his head for a long time.)

The Wizarding World had all but lost hope after Harry Potter's disappearance the week after Voldemort was discovered to have returned. The rumors were rampant; he'd fled to the safety of a foreign country, he'd gone to Voldemort's side, he'd been killed or kidnapped by Deatheaters... no one guessed that he'd been hidden in the dungeons beneath Hogwarts to be trained into the weapon they needed.

(He cried every night at the beginning of his training. He was tired and in pain and missing Sirius. They drilled him in combat, strategy, magic, leadership... anything to hone him into the assassin and general they needed. He was 16. Towards the middle, he became numb. He would run for hours without stopping at his instructor's direction, ducking charms and hexes and curses without breaking stride. He could shake off Imperius like it was a tickling charm. He could run on a broken ankle. He would sacrifice soldiers calmly on a theoretical battle field because he just didn't feel anymore. At the end he flipped back to himself again. He talked back, refused to sacrifice innocents, cracked jokes. He cried again, but he got up stronger. He was nothing if not adaptable.)

As Voldemort reigned terror on the United Kingdom, conducting raids on wizards and muggles alike, fear grew. The muggle world was told that a mad extremist was bombing various locations, and that the government was doing everything it could to stop him. Thousands died, then tens of thousands, as Harry Potter was pushed beyond his limits in a windowless series of dungeons, released only for three battles; The Battle for St Mungo's, The Battle of Diagon Alley, and the week long, horror-filled Siege of Hogwarts. The first two were counted as training exercises by his instructors, despite the fact that people were dying around him. They covered his face and his eyes to stop him being recognised and set him loose in the field, encouraging him to kill and becoming for and more frustrated as he chose to disarm and disable. Ron and Hermione sometimes trained with him, though they also continued to attend school, and they would sneak out to fight alongside him at the Battles.

(The three of them caused an international incident when a muggle news camera picked up the 'Special Task Force Soldiers', as the muggle world believed the black swathed Aurors to be, taking orders from a child wearing a soldier's uniform, two other's in school dress nursing injuries and weapons. Britain was called into question at the UN for using child soldiers. The world began to believe rumours that the UK had been training children to be assassins from birth. The Minister called Ron and Hermione into his office to rail at them, but Hermione pointed out that that was exactly what they were doing to Harry and continued to scream at him for nearly an hour. Ron thought it was hilarious.)

As celebration rang out over the UK, Harry was rushed to hospital. He was in St Mungo's for a month, hidden away at Grimmauld Place for five, flown out of the country after six. The world praised his name but feared him in the same breath. He couldn't walk down the street without being mobbed or at least stared at. He was tired, traumatised, and 17. He needed to escape, and that's just what he did.

(Ron and Hermione wanted to stay, and he got that. It didn't mean he didn't hold onto them for a very long time at Heathrow Airport, tears tracking down his face.)

The Wizarding World continued to talk about him with reverent voices, like they did with Dumbledore and Merlin. They said he'd disappeared to train more to come back and rule them, that he was living on an exotic island somewhere, that he'd bled out on the battlefield. No one thought to look for him in a normal house in small town Ohio in the United States of America, two states away from the nearest Magical Community, in a country where the name Harry Potter meant no more than a European curiosity.


	2. Chapter 1

In the upstairs bedroom of a pretty, well-kept house in Lima, Ohio, a teenage boy brushed his hair. The walls of the room were pale blue and airy, the bed was neatly made with a soft, blue plaid comforter, the furniture was light wood and matching. On the walls were pictures of his friends and family, a rough drawing of an owl, and a Manchester United poster. A grey t-shirt was flung over the back of the desk chair, and a pair of scuffed sneakers were sitting lopsided at the end of the bed. It was a perfectly normal teenager's room, inhabited by an entirely abnormal teenager.

Harry Potter tugged the comb through his thick hair distractedly, humming a happy tune under his breath. Downstairs his Godfather Remus would be waiting for him to finish getting ready for school, and the thought made Harry grin.

It had been Remus who'd finally put his foot down and gotten Harry out of England, easily convincing the Dursleys to hand over custody of Harry to him. He'd seen how the stress of fame and the memories of the war were slowly wearing Harry down, and he had decided that he'd rather die than fail James, Lily and Sirius in this final way. Harry was sick of the Wizarding World, of its backwardness and fickleness, and it's obsession with him. He wanted to be a normal kid for once in his life, while he still had the chance. So Remus had snapped him up, spirited him as far away from the Wizarding World as you could get in an English speaking country, and enrolled him in a high school. That last part Harry wasn't so thrilled about, considering the last muggle education he'd had was in primary school, but he and Hermione had been studying muggle curriculum the whole summer following the war in case they decided to live in the muggle world. Now here Harry was, a junior in a local high school, determined to be invisible and just make it through schooling quickly so he could relax.

_Normal kids go to school, _he told himself firmly. _This is a good thing. Just keep your head down and everything will be okay._

His hair had grown out nearly to his shoulders, and he used it to cover his face like a veil. He preferred it shorter, but the weight of it made it less wild and it meant that he could cover the scarring. Harry brushed his hair down over his face, trying to conceal the scars from his brief capture at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange during the Siege of Hogwarts. The poison of the dagger had prevented the cuts from being healed magically; the deep red scars were still sore to the touch, sometimes. Half a Glasgow smile and a series of deep gashes across his cheeks and forehead marred his features, making him look somewhat like a partially shattered porcelain doll. He was just grateful that she'd only had him for long enough to just get started, and that she was enjoying herself so much she was drawing it out. It could have been far worse.

His eyes were still startlingly emerald green, though now behind elegant oval frames rather than the thick round plastic ones from his childhood. His skin had lost the tan it once held, from months of intense training inside the windowless walls of the dungeons. He was still short, very short - there had been too many years of malnourishment to grow - but his shoulders had broadened somewhat. He knew he was fit, physically training being a part of the regime he'd undergone, but even the months of hard work building his muscles never quite rid him of that skinniness that he'd always possessed. Even now, though he could duel and fight with the best of them, he still looked like a messy, underfed 13-year-old. It boggled his mind, and was an endless source of amusement for Ron, who had grown to nearly 6 foot 5 and was built like a refrigerator from his (less intense) training.

Putting the brush down, Harry self-consciously flattened his hair. It wasn't really vanity that caused him to hide them, he admitted. He knew he wasn't much to look at anyway. It was the questions it raised. He hated those damned questions.

He picked up his leather satchel from the floor next to him. It should have been bursting with books, but a tiny enlarging charm helped him fit everything a little easier - surely no one would be paying that much attention to it anyway, right? That was his plan; to be as invisible and nondescript as possible, get his muggle qualifications, go to college, and live his life quietly, without any fuss. Knowing his luck, he mused, he'd be the most well known person in the school by lunch time.

He had chosen his clothing to blend in as well. His wardrobe was full of plain cotton t-shirts in solid colours, over-sized black or grey hoodies, and loose blue jeans. He knew almost nothing about clothes anyway, nor did he really care. As long as they fit him and where clean, he was happy. For his first day he had gone as plain as possible; a loose black hoody over a red t-shirt with blue jeans, and a pair of worn but clean sneakers. He knew that he looked like a caricature of a teenager - too long hair, baggy clothes, school bag - and that was fine by him.

Harry walked into the kitchen where Remus was sipping coffee and reading the paper at the small, round table. The teen put some toast on and got a glass of orange juice, leaning against the counter as he waited.

"Have you got money for lunch?" Remus asked him, turning the page of the paper. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I do."

"And your books, pens?" Remus looked up at him, concerned. "Have we forgotten anything? I feel like we've forgotten something."

"I'll make do if we have," Harry grinned at him through the veil of hair. Remus smiled back weakly.

"It's a big day, first day at a new school," Remus shut the paper, giving Harry a sincere look. "If you have any problems just give me a call and I'll make them let you go home."

Harry shook his head, "I'll be fine. I've taken my calming draught and I feel okay. I've got everything I need, books, pens, schedule... it won't be a problem."

"If you're sure," Remus murmured reluctantly. Harry grabbed his toast, shoving it into his mouth as he ran out the door.

"I'll be home by about 4, I'll call if anything changes," he said around his mouthful, grabbing his car keys off the bench. Remus nodded, still looking worried.

"Have fun, be careful, and call me if you need anything!" he called after the teenager. Harry waved back, turning into the living room and out the front door. He made his way to the second hand car he'd bought to get around - it was some sort of old Lexus, nice but out of date - and slid in. This was it. The first day of just being a normal kid. His 'dad' was sitting at their kitchen table drinking coffee, and he was on his way to high school.

People did look at him as his car pulled up, but it was more idle curiosity then staring. A few people squinted at him as he got out of the car, apparently trying to gouge if they knew him or not, but no one approached him and they quickly lost interest. He made his way to the administration with a small smile of his face; it felt good to be anonymous. He moved through the crowd blissfully ignored, with only a few people looking at him at all, and even fewer seemingly noticing that he was out of place. He picked up the map they'd made for him at the office, as well as letters for his teachers. He waved goodbye to the receptionist cheerfully, hopeful that he could get through the rest of the year with the same invisibility. The hope was forgotten when, just a few feet in front of him, an enormous boy in a red and white jacket slammed a much smaller student into a locker. The smaller student's head crashed back, slamming into the locker a split second after his back did, and a frightening crack sounded at the contact. Harry saw red. He lunged forward, grabbing the large student by the arm and whirling him around. All activity around him stopped as the shocked student population watched a tiny, unknown kid face off against Dave "The Fury" Karofsky.

"What the hell is your problem, shoving someone like that?" Harry snarled, glaring up at the bully. The bully was looking at him as though he was insane.

"Who the fuck are you? You get lost on your way to the Middle School?" the large teen growled, leaning over the tiny British teenager. Harry was unintimidated.

"I'm the new kid. Fabulous first impression, by the way. A six foot plus walking refrigerator shoving someone half his size with enough force to injure. You must truly be the crème de la crème of the intellectual hierarchy," Harry bit out, anger making the words tumble out of him but his political training making them crisp and clear. The smaller teen turned away from him, focusing on the boy who had been shoved. The boy stared at him with wide blue-green eyes, mouth open slightly. Harry's voice was gentle when he spoke to him. "Are you all right? You hit that locker pretty hard."

The boys eyes widened further, before he seemed to gather his composure. He stood up straight, revealing that he was a few inches taller than Harry (not that that was saying much), and flicked a hand through his fringe, "Yes, I'm fine. That Neanderthal isn't nearly as strong as he seems to think."

Harry nodded wisely, sidestepping the huge fist that grabbed for his arm, "That's often the way. You should probably check with the nurse though, concussions are surprisingly easy to get."

"I'm talking to you!" the larger teen made to grab him again, which Harry dodged without looking. The green eyed boy glared up at him through his hair, and the large boy continued. "You're new, so let me fill you in; Hummel's a fucking faggot, and we don't like his sort around here. We don't want to catch it. You stick up for him, you'll get treated like a faggot too."

Harry gave him a flat look, and spoke in a flatter voice, "Okay, yeah. Firstly, just because I'm about an inch and a half from legally being a midget doesn't mean I can't take you. You couldn't land a punch on me if I was tied to a chair blindfolded. Secondly, you can't 'catch' gay, and even if you could there would be worse things to catch; I could catch bigot from you, for example. Thirdly, I don't want problems, alright? I came here to get away from drama. I'm quite content with being part of the wallpaper. But if I see you physically assault someone half your size again, I will end you. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

You could have heard a pin drop in the corridor as the enormous and tiny teenagers stared one another down. The larger boy must have seen something in Harry's half-hidden eyes that made him have second thoughts, because he was the first to break.

"You fags aren't even worth my time," he grumbled, turning and lumbering off. Harry rolled his eyes, relaxing fractionally. He really didn't want to get into a fight before his first class had even started. He turned back to the pale, slender boy he had been defending, who was raising an eyebrow at him.

"Hi!" he said cheerfully, ducking his head a little as he became aware of the hallway full of eyes on him. He stuck out his hand shyly. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"Kurt Hummel," the boy offered him a small smile, taking his hand and shaking it briefly. "You didn't have to do that, you know. All the jocks will be gunning for you now."

Harry looked at his feet, flattening his hair over his face compulsively, "That's okay, I'll manage. Will they - they won't go after you in retaliation, will they?"

He frowned at the thought, looking up at the slightly apologetic look on Kurt's face. Harry sighed, "Me and my damn temper. I'm so sorry, I never even thought of that."

"Don't worry about it," Kurt waved off his apology, beaming at him. "It was totally worth it to see someone finally stand up to Karofsky. I don't think it can get much worse, anyway. So you're the transfer, huh? I'd heard about you. "

"Yeah, that's me," Harry shifted, glancing around. People seemed to be losing interest now that the fight was over. "Just got into town a week ago."

"Well!" Kurt perked up, shifting away from the locker with a beaming smile. "As your first rescued Damsel-In-Distress, I insist you let me be your guide for the day! I warn you, though, you may get slushied."

"Slushied? What's - oh, I can guess," Harry shook his head, but smiled at Kurt. "That's sounds great, actually. It will be nice to have someone to show me around. And they're less likely to go for you if I'm there."

"I wouldn't be so sure, I'm their favourite," Kurt disagreed. "I particularly offend them by my refusal to remain in the closet and the fact that I regularly wear women's shoes."

Harry winced sympathetically, "Damn. I guess small towns are the same everywhere, aren't they?"

"Uh-huh," Kurt smirked, standing with one hand perched on his hip. "Not much fun unless you're a white, Christian, middle-class, heterosexual male. FYI, you're going to be called a fag for helping me, straight or not. Sorry."

Harry shrugged, "That doesn't bother me. I have to admit it took me a while to work out why he was calling you a cigarette."

The surprised laugh this shocked out of Kurt made Harry smile, and the effeminate boy was still giggling as he said, "C'mon, brave Knight. Let's get you to class."

"So, other than the obvious answer of "England", where are you from?" Kurt asked him as they slowly made their way down the corridor.

"Surrey, outside of London," was Harry's easy reply. The 'totally-un-suspicious-and-backed-up' version of his life was still a little to dramatic for his tastes, but at least his childhood hasn't changed. "I grew up there. Went to a boarding school in Scotland, though. That was fun. What about you, have you always lived in Ohio?"

"Sadly, yes," Kurt heaved a sigh, hand pressed melodramatically over his heart. "It's tragic. I'm so ready to leave. As soon as I graduate I'm heading to New York."

"I kind of got the hint that Lima isn't really your kind of town, to be honest," Harry grinned a little, amused and more than a little impressed by the swagger in the flamboyant boy's stride and the defiant tilt of his chin. Kurt laughed, flicking his fringe.

"No, really?" he stopped in front of a classroom, leaning on one foot and sticking a hip out. Harry couldn't keep the smile off his face. Everything about Kurt was so very loud, confidant, defiant; the total opposite of Harry. The smaller boy couldn't image how someone as outlandish as Kurt had survived in a place as normal and straightforward as Lima. He couldn't help but admire the boy for it a little. Kurt didn't seem to notice Harry's amusement, choosing instead to gesture to the door with a flourish. "Tada! Your History class. I wish you luck; Mr Rafferty is about as boring as it is humanly possible to be."

"Bet you he isn't as bad as my old history teacher," Harry murmured. Kurt didn't seem to hear him.

"Since we have Spanish together after this period, how about I meet you here after? I can show you the way and introduce you to Mr Schuester, and you can protect me from the rest of the football and/or hockey teams."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Harry agreed easily. "I'll see you in an hour then?"

"Have fun!" Kurt practically skipped off, ducking down the hallway to link arms with an Asian girl in a black tutu. Harry watched him walk down the hall, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked like they might want to target him; he didn't enter the classroom until Kurt had disappeared around the corner. It had been twenty minutes since he had pulled up at the school, and already he had a friend, an enemy, and notoriety for playing the hero.

'Yeah, that could have gone better,' Harry grumbled internally, managing a weak smile at the portly teacher. He thought about the sound of Kurt's head hitting the locker, that huge bully standing over him, and the camp teen's shock at someone standing up for him, and his smile became more natural. 'Totally worth it, though.'

History passed quickly enough. While Mr Rafferty was a very boring man, Professor Binns had been in a league of his own. On top of that, Harry had spent the last three and a half months cramming four years worth of muggle education into his skull; he knew all about the Second World War, even if this class was particularly American-focused. He just quietly took his notes, doodling a little in the margins when the teacher got sidetracked, and relishing in the fact that after the initial curious looks, no one seemed to care that he was there.

'I guess news of the almost-fight hasn't spread yet,' he mused, drawing a dead mouse clutched in his doodled-Hedwig's beak. 'Things might change then.'

When the bell rang he slipped outside unnoticed. Kurt was already waiting, fiddling with his mobile phone. Harry slid over to him, unconsciously silent. He was reminded of his stealth when his quiet, "Hi." made Kurt yelp and drop his phone. Harry snatched the phone out of midair with one hand, reaching out to grasp Kurt's elbow with the other so he didn't fall. Kurt looked at him with wide eyes.

"Where did you come from?" he squeaked out, clutching at his chest. Harry felt his face flush.

"Sorry, I move really quietly," he muttered, biting his lip. "I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?'

He offered Kurt his phone back sheepishly, and Kurt took it back whilst straightening his clothes. Kurt's expression was incredulous as he processed Harry's catch.

"I'm fine, just startled. Nice reflexes, by the way," Kurt slipped his phone into his - handbag? Harry would swear it was a handbag. "It's practically my third arm, I need my phone. So! Spanish, with the one and only Mr Schuester! He also teachers Glee, which I'm in, of course."

"Glee?" Harry wondered, following the taller boy down the corridor. Kurt glanced at him over his shoulder.

"You know, Glee Club. Have you thought about joining a club?"

"What's a Glee Club?"

Kurt stopped suddenly, making Harry have to stop suddenly so he didn't run into his back. Kurt whirled around, pining Harry with a horrified expression.

"You didn't have Glee Club in England?" the boy whispered, looking rather like he'd just been told that Christmas had been cancelled and replaced by a dentist's appointment. Harry stared back, wide eyed.

"Uh, not at my school, I guess? Not with that name, anyway," he responded cautiously. Kurt gasped.

"You know, a music club! We sing and dance and perform and are generally awesome!" Kurt's words tripped over one another, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. Harry felt a smile tug the corner of his mouth; Kurt had gone from composed diva to excitable five-year-old at the mention of his Glee Club.

"I don't think I'll be joining you there," Harry demurred, looking at his feet. "I hate being the centre of attention. Performing isn't my thing at all."

Kurt pouted, "Really? It's loads of fun. It's like getting a ready-made group of friends, who like you even if they hate you!"

Harry blinked, and slowly raised an eyebrow at the strange declaration. Kurt must have seen the action through Harry's veil of hair, because he blushed a little, and sniffed disapprovingly, "Have it your way, then. Come on, Mr Schuester hates it when people are late."

The two boys weaved their way through the hallway. They hadn't gotten far when Harry heard someone calling out Kurt's name. A boy in a wheelchair pulled up next to them, and Kurt slowed down.

"Hey, Kurt!" the boy enthused, and Kurt grinned back.

"Hi Artie," Kurt turned back to Harry. "Harry, this is Artie. He's in Glee club with me. Artie, this is - "

"Your knight-in-shining armor, yeah. I've heard," Artie grinned, and Harry ducked his head. "It's all over the school. The 5-foot-tall new kid stands up to Dave "The Fury" Karofsky for the sake of the resident Queen. I think Jacob Ben Israel wants you to do an interview."

"Wait, 'The Fury'? He actually goes by that? What a tosser," Harry wondered. Kurt laughed as Harry continued. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Artie. Are you in our Spanish class too?"

"Nope, I'm off to Calculus," Artie started to spin in front of the two boys, blocking their path. He raised a fist in the air, pointing at Kurt. Kurt gently bumped their fists together, and Artie grinned. "This is my stop! Fist bump for our Kurt's hero."

He now raised his fist in front of Harry. Harry looked at Kurt quickly, then hesitantly bumped his knuckles against Artie's. Artie grinned wider, before wheeling himself into the open door of a nearby classroom, yelling, "See you at lunch!" over his shoulder. Harry looked at Kurt.

"Is that really how you greet one another?" he asked, looking at his fist in confusion. "Americans are weird."

Kurt giggled, and grabbed Harry's arm, "Come on, we'll have to hurry now."

They made it too the Spanish room without further incident, Kurt whispering information on classrooms, teachers, and students as they walked. Kurt's descriptions were certainly more interesting than that of the principle the day before, ("That's the guidance counsellor's office - Miss Pillsbury is nice, but don't expect any useful counselling, the woman is a fruit loop." "Red and white jacket means jock, which if you're me means 'pain', and if you're you apparently means 'breakfast'." "Oh God, Jacob Ben Israel. He writes a blog which is like our school paper. Avoid him when it is at all possible, trust me.") When they walked into the classroom, Kurt dragged Harry over to the attractive man behind the desk at the front.

"Mr Schuester?" the man looked up at Kurt's voice, and smiled when his eyes fell on Harry. "This is Harry, the transfer from England."

"Yes, I remember hearing about your arrival," the teacher smiled at Harry warmly. Harry blushed a little, looking at his feet. The teacher continued in a welcoming voice. "I'm glad to see you've found someone to show you around. How are you finding everything so far?"

Harry glanced up again, and couldn't help the softness of his voice - he still hated meeting new people, "It's very different from what I'm used to, that's for sure, but I'm liking it well enough. This is only my second class though."

"Yeah, so there's still plenty of time for it to go to Hell," Kurt agreed chirpily. Mr Schuester shot him a disapproving look, but that softened when Harry laughed.

"Do you have any background in Spanish, Harry?" Mr Schuester asked him as students began to fill their seats. Harry shrugged, flattening his hair.

"A tiny bit. I can read and write in Latin, though, so I should have the basics."

"Yeah, that should help a lot," Mr Schuester enthused. Kurt tilted his head, eyes narrowed at Harry.

"How come you're shy with everyone but me?" he asked bluntly, putting a hand on his hip. Mr Schuester sighed, cringing. "I mean, we're practically BFFs now, but with everyone else you're like a little shadow."

"Kurt, come on-" the teacher protested, but Harry's laughter again stopped him. The tiny teen was grinning under his hair, and he shrugged his shoulder.

"Your first impression of me was as I was losing my temper at that idiot who pushed you. You've already seen me with my claws out, seems stupid to retract them again," he felt his face flush as he spoke, very aware of Mr Schuester's surprised look and Kurt's amusement, not to mention the now almost-full classroom. Mr Schuester recovered first, looking reproachfully at Kurt.

"Someone shoved you again?" Mr Schuester folded his arms. Kurt rolled his eyes and flicked his head dismissively, but Harry could see the uncomfortable way he shifted and looked away.

"A little love-tap, nothing I couldn't handle," he dismissed, waving a regal hand. "Besides, I didn't have to. Sir Lancelot here rushed to my defence. Anyway!"

He clapped his hands suddenly, making Mr Schuester jump a little, "Why all this hanging around? There's learning to be done! C'mon, Harry. Sit next to me."

Harry waved at Mr Schuester as Kurt dragged him to a seat in the middle of the class, saying a quick, "It was nice to meet you," over his shoulder.

The class passed quickly, Mr Schuester's teaching style of vocal repetition suiting Harry just fine. He just sat and repeated with the rest of the class, watching Kurt out of the corner of his eye. The pale boy obviously spoke Spanish fairly well already; he was happily completing math homework with one hand, texting with the other, and still never missed a syllable that Mr Schuester called out. Other than Mr Schuester quietly checking that he was keeping up about halfway through, Harry was happily invisible. When the bell rang, he slipped into step next to Kurt, who shot him a wide smile.

"If I remember correctly, we're in Literature together too," he flicked a hand through his fringe playfully. "My girl Mercedes is in that class too."

"I'll be glad to meet her," Harry murmured politely, nodding to Mr Schuester as they passed him. The teacher stopped them with a gesture and addressed the smaller boy.

"Harry, has Kurt told you about our Glee club? We're always looking for new members," the teacher smiled warmly, and Harry blushed. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I've tried, Mr Schuester. He doesn't want to join," Kurt sniffed and tossed his head. "Harry here seems to think that he wouldn't like it."

"I'm not a performer," Harry laughed a little, looking at his feet. "I hate it when people look at me. On stage is the last place I want to be."

"You can always stand in the background and sway," Kurt said flippantly. "If Rachel had her way that's all anyone would be doing."

"Kurt!" Mr Schuester sighed, shaking his head. "I know Rachel has had diva tendencies in the past, but she's much better now. Glee club is very equal," the teach went on, looking at Harry. He ignored Kurt's disbelieving snort at his words. "You wouldn't have to be in the spotlight if you didn't want to be, and it's a great way to meet people and express yourself."

"And invoke the wrath of the Jocks," Kurt added cheerfully. "And to stain all your clothes with corn-syrup."

"Kurt!" Mr Schuester pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Kurt smiled innocently. "You're not helping."

"It's only fair to warn him."

"Don't feel pressured," Mr Scheuster continued, ignoring Kurt's muttered "If someone had warned me about how much money I'd end up spending on dry cleaning..." He tried to catch Harry's eye under his hair, but Harry stared determinedly at the wall behind him. "If you really don't want to join that's fine, but we have only the minimum required number of members, so we're always looking for new talent, and being in Glee is a great way to define yourself in high school."

"Unfortunately, you're defined as a loser."

"Kurt!"

"I'll think about it," Harry interrupted, half amused, half confused at the confrontation in front of him. "We really need to go now, Mr Schuester. We're running late for Literature."

"Right! Of course," the teacher waved them off, sighing an exasperated sigh as they slipped out the door, Kurt waving cheekily over his shoulder. "I'll see you in Glee, Kurt."

"I thought you wanted me to join Glee," Harry wondered as they strode down the hallway. "Why were you fighting him?"

Kurt flicked his fringed, "To be contrary. Mr Schue drives me nuts. He gives Rachel and Finn 90% of the solos, never stops the jocks from pushing me around, and completely ignores it when people make homophobic slurs around me."

"Wow," Harry blinked. "That's - intense. He seemed really concerned when I said someone shoved you, though?"

"Yeah, I'm exaggerating," Kurt sighed. He flicked his fringe again, frowning in a troubled way. "He's not that bad. A bit oblivious, but he does care about his students. I'm just bitching. 'Cedes!"

The last word was shouted, and Harry snapped his head up to see who Kurt was shrieking too. A big black girl in a gold jacket and green leopard print jeans barrelled towards them, flinging her arms around Kurt's narrow shoulders joyfully. Kurt hugged her back with equal enthusiasm.

"Missed you this morning, boo. I heard you found yourself a bodyguard," the girl enthused as she pulled back, looking over at Harry with a friendly smile. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Mercedes Jones. Are you Kurt's new guardian angel?"

"I don't know about that," Harry mumbled, blushing again. He took her hand loosely (the muscles still cramped from the break sometimes) and shook it gingerly. "I hope I'm his new friend, though."

"Absolutely!" Kurt leaned on one narrow hip, jutting it out saucily. "Even if you aren't in Glee."

"What is it with you people and Glee club? Merlin, I didn't even know what it was this morning," Harry grumbled, flattening his hair. At Mercedes' gasp, Kurt nodded and linked arms with her, pulling her down the hall with Harry trailing slightly behind.

"It's true, I had to explain it. They don't have them in England. Can you imagine?"

The colourful friends comfort with one another made Harry homesick for Ron and Hermione. As they walked, he let himself picture what their days' would be like; would Ron grumble about having to get up early for his Auror training? Would Hermione remember to eat breakfast, or would she forget it in favour of researching the plight of non-humans? Little things that he'd known every day for five years were literally a world away from him now, and though he didn't miss the attention and the danger and the reminders of what he'd lost, he missed his friends. As Kurt waved him into the Literature classroom with a flourish and a grin, Harry started composing his next letter home in his head. He wasn't sure Hermione and Ron would like Kurt; he was loud and strange in ways they weren't used to. For all their quirks, the three of them had been relatively reserved people. Kurt, Mercedes, and a blonde girl in a cheerleader's uniform had just started singing an extremely raunchy song about peacocks in the middle of the classroom, much to the confusion of the people around them. Harry grinned as he shuffled over to the teacher. The carefree, uninhibited behaviour was somehow very refreshing after the drama and angst filled year Harry had come from.

The class was meant to be discussing Frankenstein, but the teacher wandered out to make photocopies five minutes into class and never came back. The second the door shut behind her Kurt twisted in his seat to face Harry.

"So how are you liking the American school system so far?" he smiled, pulling out a nail file and squinting at his fingers. Mercedes and the blonde girl she'd introduced as Quinn turned to join them, both smiling sweetly. He smiled back.

"Well enough. It's very different from what I'm used to, but I don't dislike it," he demurred, shuffling the things on his desk.

"What was your old school like?" Quinn asked pleasantly. Her gaze was sweetly curious, but Harry could see a sly glint in her eyes. Five years at Hogwarts had helped him place people by House in an instant, and he was willing to bet that this girl would be a Slytherin; not necessarily evil or bad, but cunning and clever. He answered her carefully, suspecting that she'd catch any stumble he made.

"Very different. It was a boarding school for one, in Scotland, in this big old castle. Very fancy, very traditional. Mostly the children of European aristocracy, really," he shrugged. In order to prevent wizards entering the muggle world from looking like they came from nowhere, Hogwarts did have a reputation in the muggle world. It was known as Gallant Hall, an invitation-only private school for children of old families. Harry wasn't sure how they kept the actual old families from wanting to send their kids there.

"You're a member of the English Aristocracy?" Quinn deduced, her eyebrows raised and her eyes raking across his plain clothes with doubt. He snorted.

"Old family. Not that it means much these days. I grew up in middle class Surrey."

"What made you hop up and move to Ohio?" Mercedes casually stole Kurt's phone from his hands, ignoring Kurt protesting squeak. "Artie says, "Hi!" from Chemistry, by the way."

Harry shrugged, "After all that shit that went down in the UK in the past few years my guardian basically decided we were going somewhere quiet for a while. Somewhere we weren't risking being blown up."

"Isn't that all over now? They got the guy behind it?" Kurt asked, still trying to wrestle his phone from a giggling Mercedes. Harry shrugged again, trying desperately to make the story boring.

"Why risk it?"

"'Sup, nerds?" A voice boomed over them. Quinn rolled her eyes and Mercedes and Kurt both huffed as a muscular boy in a tight t-shirt jumped over Mercedes' desk and sat on it. He had a mohawk and a cocky smirk, and was blatantly staring down at a quiet Harry. "Dude, you're the kid who scared the shit out of Karofsky? You're tiny!"

"Puck!" all three of Harry companions shouted. Quinn looked furious, Mercedes horrified. To Harry's amusement, Kurt just looked exasperated, clearly used to the newcomer's lack of tact. Harry grinned and looked back to 'Puck'.

"Yes, I am both the guy who confronted Karofsky and tiny," he agreed amiably, startling Quinn and Mercedes. "Other than the character from a Shakespearean play, who are you exactly?"

The mohawked boy blinked, "What?"

"This is Noah Puckerman, better known as Puck," Kurt interrupted. "He's in Glee with the three of us. And before you ask, no, I don't really know anyone who isn't in Glee or Cheerleading."

"Are you really okay with him calling you tiny?" Mercedes added tentatively. "'Cause we can make him apologise."

"Grovel, even," Quinn added, voice sweet but eyes glaring daggers at the boy on the desk. Harry tried to keep up with the fast conversation.

"It's fine, I am tiny," Harry's mouth quirked into a smile. "As long as I'm wearing a shirt I look like 12 year old. I'm aware of this. Why bother worrying?"

"That's a good philosophy," Mercedes smiled at him, tilting her head in an endearing way. "You're alright, white boy."

"Thank you," Harry smiled back briefly, then looked at Kurt. "So how many people are in this Glee club of yours?"

"12," was the immediate response. "Me, 'Cedes, Quinn, Puck, Finn, Rachel, Artie, Tina, Mike, Brittany, Santana, and Sam. That's the minimum number of people we can have, so if we lose one, we're screwed. Hence why you should totally join Glee club."

"If you don't mind being labelled a loser," Puck added helpfully, smirking as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest. "You don't have the protection of being a jock or a cheerio too. You'd be getting slushied with the rest of them."

"Yes, thank you, Puck," Kurt rolled his eyes, but shot Harry a sassy smirk. "But I don't think Harry's worried about that."

"I'm more worried about the whole, being on a stage with people looking at me thing," Harry agreed. "I don't like being the centre of attention. Hell, I'm uncomfortable now."

"Sorry," Mercedes instantly looked concerned, reaching out and patting him on the arm. "But you're the most interesting thing to happen to this school since Kurt's miniskirt."

"It was a kilt, and I totally rocked it."

"No, I get it," Harry shuffled his books on his desk. "It's fine. I just don't like people looking at me. I'm not that interesting."

_I'm just a famous, magical, crazy-rich, combat-trained, torture-scarred aristocrat with PTSD. Perfectly normal really._

Kurt interrupted his internal quips with a snort and a toss of his head, "Please. You stood up to a guy twice your size for a kid you didn't know for no reason other than it was the right thing to do in a town where most people follow the "If I ignore it, it doesn't exist" school of Right and Wrong. That makes you pretty special."

"It's true," Quinn piped up, her voice more genuinely sweet than Harry had heard previously. "The people at this school are more than happy to allow the top rung of the social class treat the lower rungs like dirt. That you don't sets you apart and makes you interesting."

"Enough of this after-school special bullshit," Puck interrupted, flicking a rubber band at someone's head across the room. "The new kid doesn't want to talk about himself, so let's talk about something more interesting. Like me."

Mercedes rolled her eyes, "We don't want to hear about your latest conquest, your badassness, or your precious guns. Other than that, go right on ahead."

The conversation turned to music as Puck pouted on the desk, and Harry was content to sit quietly and listen. Kurt did try to draw him in on occasion, but the softly spoken wizard would just gently turn the conversation back to someone else. It was fun, and it wasn't until the bell rang and the class stampeded out of the room that Harry realised he had meant to avoid making friends.

_Well, shit. So much for in and out without any fuss._

Then Kurt turned and grinned at him, reaching out and pulling him in line with the flamboyant boy, Quinn, Mercedes and Puck. Four hours ago they'd never met. Now, Kurt was linking arms with him and offering to help him catch up in Spanish.

_Maybe this will be better._


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Sooo... from what I'm hearing from reviews, ya'll are going to be pretty disappointed with this chapter. Harry getting in with the Glee club isn't the main plot of the fic, that will be revealed later, so it happens pretty fast. Also (and I annoyed myself with this) Harry comes across as kind of Gary-Stu ish in the next chapter or so. Don't worry, he'll fuck up soon enough. Keep reading anyway! My betas assure me it's worth it. Remember, I am a total review whore and will sell my soul and update faster for reviews. In any case, I will update again on Sunday night at the latest. The whole story will be about 85,000 words long and may have a sequel so watch this space, kiddies. It's going to be EPIC.

* * *

After a spectacularly boring Biology class (which Harry didn't share with Kurt, but did share with Kurt's friend Tina) Harry found himself sitting at a table in the cafeteria, surrounded by a group of very loud, very friendly teenagers. Mercedes had introduced them as New Directions, the McKinley Glee club, and introductions had quickly gone around. As soon as the group was informed that Harry had come to Kurt's defence against Karofsky, he was in. A girl in a sequined sweater vest introduced herself as Rachel Berry, and went on to inform him that as she had two gay dads, she was very in tuned with the plight of the GLBT community and would thus like to thank him for his defence of her good friend Kurt. While Harry was still reeling from her, an extremely tall boy shook his hand and introduced himself as Finn, Kurt's almost-stepbrother. He received a friendly smile and nod from a blonde boy named Sam and an Asian guy named Mike, whom Quinn and Tina promptly informed him were their respective boyfriends. A pair of cheerleaders joined them as he was introduced. One, whom Kurt introduced as Santana, promptly called him a midget and sat down next to Puck without sparing him another glance. The blonde girl, Brittany, asked Kurt where Harry's face was then got distracted by Mercedes' earring. Harry felt amused, confused, and overwhelmed. As he ate his awful cafeteria lunch slowly he was given a full McKinley Debriefing; which teachers to avoid, which bathrooms were cleanest, which students would throw slushies, shortcuts to classes. They managed 15 minutes before Glee Club came up again.

"So will be auditioning for Glee today or will you take some time to settle in first?" Rachel chirped from across the table from him, eyes wide and earnest. Harry sighed and shook his head.

"I don't have plans to join Glee. I'm not a performer," he said firmly, shoot Kurt a wry smile at the other boy's sympathetic expression. There were a few surprised looks around the table, but Rachel looked positively scandalised.

"But - you-!" Rachel spluttered. Kurt snapped at her with feeling.

"Look, he doesn't have to. The spotlight isn't for everyone. And he's already gotten this speech from me, Mr Schue, Mercedes and Quinn. He doesn't need it again."

Rachel looked ready to protest, but shut her mouth at Kurt's Look. She sat sulkily back in her seat, eyeing Harry in a way that made him certain that he was going to be hearing a great deal about the merits of Glee Club in the future. He went to pick up his fork when he felt a magical warning shoot down his spine. He twisted in his seat without hesitation, automatically covering Kurt with his back as he went, ready to combat whatever was coming towards him -

The football hit the table, scattering food around. Harry's head snapped around to see who'd thrown it; a few wide-eyed jocks were standing a few feet away.

"What the hell, dude?" Finn jumped up from his seat and started towards the jocks. "You nearly hit the new kid!"

"I think that was kind of the point, Finn," Kurt snarked, glaring at the jocks. Finn's brow furrowed as Sam, Mike and Puck joined him in defence of the table. The cafeteria went quiet at the sight of the four glee club jocks facing down the other three. Harry sighed.

_Drama, drama, drama. Why can't teenagers just calm down?_

One of the jocks snorted and puffed out his chest, "We're just giving the newest Homo Explosion reject a warm McKinley welcome. Just because Karofsky couldn't be fucked taking care of him this morning doesn't mean that he's safe."

The guy looked at Harry with what Harry guessed was meant to be a threatening look. Harry just stared back, totally unimpressed. Finn tried to reason with the jocks.

"Dude, can't you just leave us alone? We're not hurting anyone, and Harry's not even in Glee."

"It's more the fact that you exist, really," one of the jocks drawled, and Harry saw red.

_It's more the fact that he exists, really... Your father was a no good, bullying...What's up, Snivellus...Leave poor Severus alone...Your father was a no good bullying..._

He was standing before he knew what had happened, slipping through the narrow gap between Puck and Finn with ease. He strode straight over to the three jocks, face blank and deadly calm. Those hated words circled in his head, dragging out that horrified feeling of knowing that his father, his idolised, hero-worshiped father was no more than a particularly cruel bully. Years of unjust treatment at the hands of Dudley and the Dursleys in general had made even the thought of bullying enrage him; this was too much.

He stopped mere inches from the jocks, who were looking at him trepidatiously. He wasn't sure why he, at five-foot nothing, was always so intimidating. Hermione said that it was because he carried himself like someone dangerous, someone powerful, someone frightening. Even muggles could sense emotion-fuelled magic, though they couldn't place it, and it did tend to swirl around him when he was angry. He held the centre jock's gaze as he brushed his hair off his face. All three boys blanched at the sight of the twisted scars, and he smiled a little.

"I am not afraid of you," he informed them softly, slowly, letting every syllable hit. The words echoed around the otherwise silent cafeteria. "I have absolutely no reason to be. You're not frightening, you're not tough, you're not dangerous. You're schoolboy bullies with aspirations of being thugs. Now, you've decided I'm your enemy because I stood up for someone being attacked. That's your right. But know this, boys; Every person at that table is under my protection. I may have come to this school to escape from drama and be a normal teenager, but I'm not going to stand by and watch a few pathetic, ignorant parasites like you torment a group of people who have been nothing but kind to me. And, unlike you, I _am _frightening, I _am _tough, and I _am _dangerous."

He rocked back a little, his hair sliding obediently to cover his face. He didn't drop their gazes, knowing they'd just be able to see the glint in his eyes, "I like Kurt. He's a good guy. And his friend's accepted me just as easily. Maybe I'll join Glee, maybe I won't. But Glee club is off limits to you and all your little jock friends. Understood?"

The jocks just stared. Harry reached forwards and gently straightened the boy on the end's collar, "Gentlemen, I'm glad we had this talk."

He turned and faced the glee clubbers. Puck, Sam, and Mike looked impressed. Finn just looked gobsmacked. He smiled at them more genuinely, and said, "Shall we try to salvage our lunch?"

He slipped passed them without waiting for an answer. He blushed when he saw the looks on the other's faces; Rachel and Tina's wide-eyed awe, Quinn and Mercedes' wide smiles. Artie looked torn between laughing and staring, and Brittany just looked confused. Santana was giving Harry a calculating look that made him slightly nervous. And Kurt -

Harry slid back into his seat next to Kurt quickly, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. The pale boy's expression was troubled. His voice was flat when he spoke.

"You just made yourself an enemy of every testosterone-ruled meathead in this school for a group of people you've known less than a day," Kurt was shaking his head, his pale face even paler than usual. Harry corrected him with a smile.

"I made myself an enemy of a group of pathetic schoolboy bullies for the sake of a group of people who accepted me into their fold without question," he tilted his head to the side, trying to explain without seeming creepy. "I'm a pretty good judge of character. Those guys are cowards. They might try to start something, but they'll lose. And you guys are good people. Why shouldn't I stand up for you?"

Kurt smiled painfully, "Because they're going to destroy you."

"No, they're not. They're going to _try_."

"I think it was very noble of you, Harry," Rachel interrupted, sitting up straight and beaming at him. "the bullying in this school is absolutely rife. It's disgraceful."

"It's true," Quinn nodded. She glanced down. "Half of us used to be in on it. Then we joined Glee and... made unpopular choices and suddenly we knew what it was like."

"It fucking sucks," agreed Puck, shovelling food into his mouth. "I di'nt know how mu' un'il -"

"Puck, don't talk while you eat," Rachel sniffed. "It's disgusting."

"I got bullied growing up," Harry shrugged. "It's kind of my rage-trigger now. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, when I lose my temper I just completely go off."

"It's fine," Mercedes assured him, arm around a still worried looking Kurt's shoulders.

"I thought it was hot."

Santana's sultry drawl made Harry freeze with his fork halfway to his mouth. Kurt, Mercedes, Quinn, and Puck all rolled their eyes, and everyone else looked various flavours of amused and exasperated. Except Brittany. She still looked confused. Harry was beginning to think that was just her default expression. Harry looked to Santana, who was leaning forward with a smirk. She shrugged.

"What? I like tough guys. It was hot," she tossed her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyelids. Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"You like tough midgets too then?"

Kurt snorted indelicately, covering his mouth. Santana rolled her eyes.

"Wait, you actually are a midget?" Finn wondered, frowning. Kurt gave a small, embarrassed groan and dropped his face in his hand. Harry tried not to laugh.

"No, I'm not. Also, I think the correct term is 'little person.' But she called me one earlier, so..."

"Oh! Yeah, I get it," Finn smiled broadly. He frowned again. "Hey, what's wrong with Kurt?"

"Just contemplating the best way of asking your mother exactly how many times she dropped you on your head when you were a baby."

"What?"

"So, what of it?" Harry jumped when a breathy voice whispered in his ear. Santana has seemingly materialised behind him as he watched Kurt and Finn, actually managing to take him by surprise. She was leaning over him, her breasts resting against his shoulder. "You want to tap this or not?"

Harry blinked, "I have no idea what that means."

She rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation, "Look, shorty, I'm giving you a chance to get in my pants. That's not something every guy gets-"

"Only every second guy," Kurt muttered. Santana ignored him.

"-so you want in or not? You can't do better than this," she gestured to her body cockily and leant on one shapely hip. Harry shot a bemused glance at Kurt, who had his head in his hands again.

"Um... not interested, thank you?" he mumbled, shifting lower in his seat. Santana's mouth fell open for a second, and Mercedes grinned.

"Fine," the girl tossed her hair over her shoulder. "It was mostly pity anyway. Your loss. Looks like you got lucky, Kurt. You now have a fellow gay to fuck."

"Santana!" Kurt's head snapped up to face her, cheeks flushed bright pink. Harry interrupted him before a fight could break out.

"Wait, so the only possible explanation for a guy not wanting to sleep with you is him being gay?" he smiled a little, laughing. "It can't just be that you're not his type, or he's abstinent, or he's seeing someone, or he wants to get to know you first?"

"Since when do guys care about that?" Santana folded her arms. "You had a shot at a hot piece of ass. What more do you want?"

Harry shrugged, "Just more, I guess."

Santana gave him a long, confused look, before muttering, "Whatever," and stalking back to her seat. Conversation resumed and lunch passed. He walked to class with Kurt and a few of the others, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him. The day hadn't gone to plan at all, but it was okay.

Remus was waiting in the living room when he got home at 4.08. He looked up expectantly when Harry opened the door.

"How was it?" he jumped to his feet, taking Harry's bag off his shoulder and leading the boy to sit on the couch."Was it manageable? Did you get short of breath or have any attacks?"

"Remus, it's fine," Harry soothed, allowing the man to flutter around him. "I told you, I'm heaps better. I haven't had a panic attack in months. The calming drought and the talks with Healer Ryan have worked wonders. You don't need to worry about me so much."

"Of course I'm going to worry," Remus muttered, looking slightly embarrassed but continuing to fuss over Harry's clothes. "It's my job as your guardian, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Harry smiled at him warmly, ignoring the pang in his chest at seeing the brilliant man he knew reduced to an anxious mess.

Sirius' death was harder on Remus than anyone had imagined it would be. For three days after no one had been able to find him, and they'd feared he'd been found by Death Eaters. Eventually he staggered back to G Place, collapsed into Sirius' bed and refused to leave. He had a total nervous breakdown; he'd been in St Mungos for the entire duration of the active war. He was better than he had been; he no longer stopped eating for days or disappeared without warning. He'd flung himself into helping Harry find a new life, taking to it with a kind of manic energy that worried Harry as much as it touched him. Now, he just took Remus' hand and pulled him to sit next to him, grinning as he described his crazy, Glee-ful day. He told him about vibrant, defiant Kurt and how he was so happy to have someone stand up for him, about clubs that did nothing but sing and become family, about easily intimidated bullies and boys with mohawks who called their friends losers. Remus listened intently, smiling at Harry's description of Santana's proposition and rolling his eyes at "The Fury". He'd relaxed considerably by the end of the tale, and even laughed a little when Harry told him about Kurt hugging his 'baby' hello when they'd walked to the parking lot.

"I'm glad you made some friends," Remus squeezed Harry's hand gently. "I know you just wanted to get your muggle qualifications without any fuss but maybe now you'll have some fun along the way. Just so long as you don't forget your old friends when you do."

"No chance of that," Harry bounced to his feet, grabbing his bag from the coffee table. "I'm going to write to them now, actually. Shall I give them your love?"

"Definitely," Remus smiled up at him. "Tell Hermione not to worry about rushing that book back, too. She can keep it a while longer."

"Okay!" Harry ran up the stairs two at a time, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He was actually looking forward to school the next day, to seeing Kurt and Mercedes and Quinn. Artie was a riot too, and Puck - though abrasive - was pretty good natured. Rachel kind of scared him with her enthusiasm, but even she seemed sweet enough once you got passed the first impression. It was a friendly, fun, and welcoming group of people. It honestly kind of made him want to join their Glee club. He could sing pretty well, or so Hermione had told him, and he could always put himself in the back row. Kurt had teasingly told him that there was an early Glee rehearsal tomorrow morning, suggesting kiddingly that it would be a great time to audition. Harry considered it as he pulled out some parchment and a quill from the false bottom in his desk drawer, running the idea over in his head. He didn't like the idea of being on a stage in the spotlight, but if a club could keep guys like Kurt AND Puck AND Artie, it must offer something for everyone. He made up his mind before he started his letter; he'd go along and audition. He had a chance to be a normal, happy kid for the first time in his life, and normal happy kids joined clubs and had friends. Even if it did mean he'd have to conquer his stage fright.

Kurt said that the practice started at 7 am sharp, so Harry pulled into the McKinley High parking lot at 6.55. He could see Rachel and Finn sitting on the steps leading up to the school, and Kurt standing nearby looking at his phone. He took a deep breath, grabbed his bag off the seat next to him, and slipped out of the car. Rachel and Finn both waved when he saw them, and he gave a shy wave back. Finn seemed to have said something to Kurt, because the slight boy looked over. His face lit up when he saw Harry, and he beamed a grin as the tiny teen joined him by the door.

"We managed to tempt you to the dark side after all," he quipped, nudging Harry with his shoulder as his fingers flew over his phone. Harry ducked his head.

"Yeah, well, you're persuasive," he smiled over at Rachel and Finn. "Everyone else on their way?"

"I assume so, never know with some of them though," Kurt shoved his phone into his - okay, this one was definitely a handbag, Harry thought - bag, before clasping his hands in front of his chest exuberantly. "What happened to, 'I'm not a performer'?"

"I'm _not _a performer," Harry laughed. "But you guys were so great yesterday. I want to get to know you all more. It seemed like a decent way to do it. I mean, I can sing a bit and I'll want to stand in the back row, but you made it sound like fun."

"Oh, it is. It's fantastic, and it'll be great to have you there," Kurt reached out and - after a brief hesitation - squeezed Harry's hand quickly, dropping it a second later. "This is so great! No more worrying about someone dropping out and leaving us with Jacob Ben Israel again..."

"I said I was sorry!" Finn called over, pouting until Rachel gave him a condescending pat on the cheek. Harry shook his head and smiled.

"Well, anything that can entertain such a diverse group of people has to have something going for it," he looked over the parking lot as another car pulled up. Mercedes and Tina tumbled out of it, a tray of coffee in each of their hands. Kurt let out a relieved sigh at the sight of them, but shot Harry an apologetic glance.

"It was their turn to bring the coffee, but they won't have grabbed anything for you," the pale boy bit his lip. "You can share mine, if you like. It's pretty strong, though. Three-shot espresso, black, no sugar."

"It's fine, I don't drink coffee," Harry grinned wryly. "On the off chance I might have another growth spurt in me, I don't want to do anything that risks stunting it."

Kurt snickered, "Good point."

Mr Schuester was the next to arrive, greeting Harry with a beaming smile that rivalled Kurt's and a cheerful, "Great to see you joining us!" By 7.15 the whole Glee club was sprawled around the choir room, gratefully drinking their coffees and talking animatedly. Harry sat quietly next to Kurt, trying to keep his breathing even and not freak out at the thought of singing in front of the group. Kurt seemed to notice his nerves, and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about it too much," the pale boy whispered to him, leaning in close. "Everyone is welcome in Glee. Even if you're awful we'll give you a shot. As long as you turn up and don't sell us out to Coach Sylvester, you're golden."

"Who's Coach Sylvester?"

Before Kurt could answer, Mr Schuester called out, "Guys? You might have noticed we have a new member auditioning today."

There was scattered applause, and Artie and Mercedes both let out playful cheers. Mr Schuester grinned.

"It's nice to see you all being so supportive! Harry, this is what Glee is all about. Being a part of something, having a safe place to express yourself, having fun!"

"Also, singing," Kurt added helpfully, making Harry smirk. "You know, sometimes."

Mr Schuester shot Kurt an exasperated look, "Thank you again, Kurt. Harry, did you have anything you wanted to audition with?"

"Yes, actually," Harry took one last deep breath, shooting Kurt a grateful look at the final comforting squeeze the other boy gave his arm. Rachel shot him a thumbs up and Quinn mouthed good luck as he walked up to stand next to Mr Schuester, the CD he'd burnt the night before clutched in his hand. He could feel himself beginning to sweat, O_h Merlin, why did I think this was a good idea? I'm barely used to public speaking, let alone singing in front of people!_

"Great! Rachel, do me a favour and set up the CD player?" Mr Schuester smiled at Harry warmly. "What are you going to sing for us?"

"Uh, Hallelujah, by Leonard Cohen," he muttered, pushing his hair down compulsively. He knew his face was nearly impossible to see already, but the feeling of the eyes on him was making him jittery. "It's pretty much the only song I know the lyrics too."

_The only muggle song, anyway. I don't think I'll be able to get a backing version of '_Your Heart is Like a Cauldron_' on iTunes._

"Fantastic, great choice," the teacher enthused. "Just take it at your own pace, don't stress. You don't have to be a pop star to get in. If I could just ask, though - could you move your hair out of your face? It muffles you, and we need to be able to see you."

Harry froze, his anxiety ratching up a notch. Well, that was fast. Mr Schuester looked sympathetic at his obvious discomfort, but seemed to think that he was simply embarrassed, "Look, I know you might feel more comfortable with a bit of a barrier between you and everyone else-"

"It's not really that," Harry interrupted, digging his nails into his palm to force him to focus. "I just..."

He trailed off, and bit his lip. He really, _really _hated people seeing his scars; they always wanted to ask questions and poke them and stare. But it was kind of inevitable that he show them off sooner or later, and maybe this way he could get a group of people out of the way at once.

"Look, if it really bothers you that much you don't have to-" Mr Schuester began, his voice kind but confused. Harry shook his head.

"No, I will. I just have to warn..." he looked at the group, all of whom were watching the exchange with open fascination. Except Kurt, Harry noted. Kurt looked worried and ready to leap to his defence. "Look, it's probably easier I just tell everyone at once; I got caught in one of the bombings in England last year."

There was a hushed gasp around the room, and expressions ranged from still fascinated to sympathetic. Kurt in particular was shooting Mr Schuester short glares for forcing Harry to talk, and Brittany still just looked confused. He continued, staring down at his feet, "I wasn't too badly hurt but I do have a few pretty nasty scars on my face. They don't really embarrass me or anything but I hate answering questions about them. Also," he smiled wryly here, "despite the fact that since I've come to this school I have been constantly the centre of attention, I hate being stared at. That's why I keep my face hidden."

He looked back at Mr Schuester, who was wide eyes and open mouthed, "I'll move my hair for Glee if I have to but please, just - don't stare at them?"

He glanced back at the group. Kurt didn't hesitate, "Of course we won't!"

A burst of agreements came from the group, and Harry could feel himself blushing. He felt stupid making such a big deal about them now, but it was always such a drama in the Wizarding World. People already stared as he walked down the street, looking like a cheap Frankenstein's monster mask hadn't helped.

"I know it's not really a big deal but I haven't had them for very long and I'm just a little-" he babbled, trying to justify it to himself. Mr Schuester patted him on the shoulder.

"It's fine, Harry. If you're comfortable without covering them, it won't make a difference to us what you look like. We'd just like to be able to hear you," the teacher assured him, still looking apologetic for bring it up. Harry's cheeks felt like they were on fire. "Do you want to start now? I'll start the CD."

"Yeah! Yeah. Sorry for causing so much drama. I mean, I let those guys at lunch see them yesterday to freak them out, it shouldn't be a big deal," he stammered, looking at his feet. He hesitantly raised a hand to his face, pushing the veil of hair away. The Glee clubbers did their best not to react to the sight of the scars, but Harry could see a few eyes widen. He focused on Kurt, who looked a little pale, but the taller boy smiled at him brightly when he caught his eye.

Harry jumped when the music started playing, having completely forgotten why he was standing there. A thrill of fear shot into his stomach, making it feel like lead. For a moment he forgot all the words to the song, but as the familiar tune drifted through him the words pours from his mouth naturally.

_Well, I heard there was a secret chord,_

He'd sung this with Hermione during his training. He wasn't allowed much time for fun, and even less time with his friends, and what little time he did get he was often so tired he couldn't move.

_That David played, and it pleased the Lord,_

She'd started singing to him when she visited, letting him rest his head on her lap and just listen as the notes drifted over him. He'd sung along one day when he'd known the song, and she'd said he had a lovely voice.

_But you don't really care for music, do you?_

Singing with Hermione, with Ron listening nearby, became one of the only respites he'd had that whole year of training.

_It goes like this, the forth, the fifth._

Harry's mind was back in the dungeons as he sang, Ron and Hermione in his minds' eye singing along. He sang in that sad, bitter way that had made Hermione cry and smile, _You're a really good singer, Harry._

_The minor fall, the major lift,_

In the choir room there were 13 pairs of wide eyes. Harry's surprisingly deep, husky voice was almost hypnotic. It was both smooth and crooning, and raw and real. Most of the girls had tears in their eyes as his voice painted a sad and bitter picture in their minds.

_The baffled king composing..._

The note hung in the air, and the group held its breath collectively, letting it out when Harry finished the phrase in an enraptured sigh.

_Hallelujah_  
_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah._

Harry smiled a little, still oblivious to the effect his song was having on the club, just enjoying playing with the notes in a way that he hadn't since the war ended. The song was a shorter version than he was used to- he hadn't wanted to go on and on in an audition - so he started to pull himself back in for the final crescendo.

_I don't know if there's a God above,_  
_'Cause all I've ever learnt of love,_  
_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you._

Tina was openly weeping as his voice built up, and Mr Schuester's eyes were damp. Kurt didn't think he'd blinked since Harry had started singing, his gaze locked on the surprisingly beautiful boy singing.

_It's not a cry that you hear at night,_  
_It's not somebody who's seen the light,_  
_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah,_

Rachel gasped as the notes soared from Harry's mouth. She struggled to catch her breath, soon giving into the same feeling as Tina, who caught her hand.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah._

The music trailed to a stop, and Harry was forced out of his fantasy. He looked around the room; Rachel and Tina were crying; Kurt, Mercedes, Quinn, Santana and Brittany all had damp eyes; Finn was staring at him open mouthed; the other boys had eyes as wide as saucers. He faltered.

"Did... I do something wrong?" he looked over at Mr Schuester, who was wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Puck answered incredulously.

"Dude, are you nuts? You're amazing!"

Those words seemed to break everyone out of their trances. Rachel wiped her eyes and stood up to applaud him, an act which the rest of the group quickly followed. Harry flushed and ducked his head, letting his hair fall in front of his face again. Mr Schuester stood and walked over to him, still clapping enthusiastically. He clapped a hand onto Harry's narrow shoulder, beaming widely.

"You're fantastic! I think I speak for everybody when I say we're glad to have you aboard," the teacher enthused. Harry shot a nervous look over to Kurt, overwhelmed. Kurt looked proud and happy, but still softened his smile at Harry's wide-eyed look. Mr Schuester continued, unaware of Harry's nervousness. "You'll have to try out for a solo, Sectionals-"

"I don't want a solo," Harry interrupted, leaning back unconsciously. He felt a little trapped, closed in, and wondered why this had ever seemed like a good idea. "I just want to be in the chorus or whatever it's called."

Mr Schuester frowned, disappointed, "Are you sure? You're really talented, and I think that with some training-"

"I'm sure, very, very sure," Harry confirmed, inching away from the centre of the room and back to his seat. "I just wanted to join to make friends, I hate being in the spotlight. Just singing in here was terrifying."

The teacher sighed a little mournfully, looking at Harry with ridiculously sad eyes, "Well, I can't force you. If you change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know," Harry confirmed, slipping back into his seat next to Kurt with a relieved sigh. Kurt was looking at him with a mixture of calculating interest and understanding, and was tapping his lips thoughtfully. The teacher started talking about a set list for Sectionals and working Harry into their routines, and just like that he was one of them. Over the course of the hour, Harry listened to Rachel and Mercedes argue over songs and solos, with the occasional quip or comment by Kurt, tried not to laugh at Brittany's non-sequitors ("Mr Schuester, how come you're not a woman?" "Uh...") and smiled and clapped with everyone else when Puck and Finn randomly started rocking out to a song he didn't know. Mercedes shot him a thumbs up, and Artie fist bumped him on the way out the door. Tina and Mike both offered to walk him to his first class, but just smiled cheerfully when Kurt told them he had it covered. Just like that, he was accepted, no questions asked.


	4. Chapter 3

(A/N: Hey guys! I'm stoked that so many people are enjoying this. Because your reviews were so lovely (and stopped the twitching for a few minutes) I am uploading this a day early. It's another set-up chapter, but I hope you enjoy it. As always, constructive crit. is appreciated and reviews feed my habit. The next chapter will be up no later than next Friday, Perth time (so late Thursday night for American readers). Of course, if a get enough reviews that I am sufficiently motivated... :D)

* * *

Kurt was describing their failure at last year's Regionals when they saw their first jocks of the day. The first boy from yesterday, Karofsky, was standing with another large boy, whom a quick whisper from Kurt identified as, "Azimio."

They had their hands behind their backs, and Harry was instantly on alert. Kurt stiffened next to him, but held his head high as they approached. Harry shifted so his body was angled behind Kurt's; it would be easier to move him out of the way from there. Sure enough, the two jocks brought their arms around quickly, preparing to throw something. Harry automatically slipped an arm around Kurt's waist, ducking down and pulling Kurt with him to the side. A split second later, they were standing parallel to the two jocks, untouched, while a red icy substance was splashing to the floor and landing on random people. There were a few disgusted cries from the kids in the hallway as they tried to escape the liquid, and the jocks were looking at Harry and Kurt in confusion. Kurt glanced at Harry sideways, then smirked at the jocks when it became apparent that Harry wasn't going to say anything, "The slushie thing is getting old, boys. Maybe you need a new trick?"

"Fuck you, faggot," Azimio sneered, making Harry roll his eyes and mutter, "Fan_tas_tic rebuttal, really." into Kurt's ear quietly. "You and your little boyfriend aren't welcome at this school."

Kurt shifted uneasily, shooting a nervous glance at Harry but speaking in a cutting voice, "Just being friends with a gay guy doesn't make you gay, you cretin, even if that gay guy _is_ as flaming as they get. Why don't you two go play with balls or shower together - isn't that what football players do?"

"You two look pretty close to me," Karofsky's lip curled in disgust, pointedly glaring at Harry's arm, which was still unconsciously around Kurt's waist. Kurt started a little and tried to subtly pull away, but Harry held on protectively, concerned that the jocks might start getting physical. "Looks like you've finally got a fellow fag. Maybe now you can stop infecting the rest of us."

Harry could feel his temper bubbling up at Kurt's underlying fear of both Harry's reaction to their calling him gay, and of the boys themselves. He took a deep breath, and muttered, "Forget them, let's just go," into Kurt's ear. "This isn't worth our time."

Kurt nodded a little, not taking his eyes off Karofsky, before chirping, "So, Spanish again! Goody. We'd better hurry or Mr Schuester will do his whole, 'disappointed' shtick, and I hate that."

Harry followed Kurt away, easily sidestepping the hands that tried to grab them. Behind them, Azimio was growling about not being done with them, but the two smaller boys just walked away. When Harry sensed a hand about to clamp down on Kurt's shoulder, he just caught it, twisted it enough to make the owner (Karofsky, apparently) howl in pain, and kept walking. They walked to Spanish with no further disruptions, Kurt nervously fiddling with his cuff links.

"I'm sorry that you have to hear that," he said quietly as they waited for Mr Schuester to enter the classroom. Harry looked at him curiously, and he clarified. "Those Neanderthals are really going to give you hell. I mean, I don't think things can get much worse for me but you're going to be miserable at this school."

Harry blinked, "Will I have friends?"

Kurt smiled a little, patting Harry's hand gently, "Of course! You're in Glee now. We'll look out for you."

"Cool. Am I at risk of being blown up or kidnapped by terrorists at any given time?"

"...no, I can't say there is a lot of terrorism in Lima."

"Will I have a stalker here?"

"I...hope not?"

"I'll be fine," Harry shrugged, placing his books on his desk. "Honestly, I've been bullied before. It sucks, but there are worse things. As long as you have friends who are willing to have your back, it's bearable."

"That's true," Kurt smiled at him strangely, that calculating look in his eye again. "I have to say, I have no idea why you did but I'm glad you've decided to make yourself my bodyguard. I hate getting slushied."

Harry ducked his head, blushing. He could feel Kurt's curious gaze on him and felt the need to explain himself, "You let me into your circle of friends when I expected to be a part of the wallpaper for the next two years. That means a lot. I'm not really doing much."

"Just making yourself a target of both football and hockey teams, pulling me out of the way to stop me getting slushied and getting between me and the football yesterday - don't think I didn't notice - , putting up with being called a fag and God knows what else, threatening three jocks in front o the entire school to stand up for me, overcoming your stage fright in order to join Glee..." Kurt smirked a little as Harry got redder and redder. "Don't get me wrong, this all works out well for me, but it's... kinda weird. No offence meant, I'm practically the king of weird myself and it's a good weird, but most teenagers aren't that selfless."

"I'm not selfless," Harry protested. He didn't know how to explain what the school had started in him in the past two days _(God, has it only been two days? It feels like six months._) He couldn't explain how lonely, how isolated he'd been in the last year, his whole life! He couldn't explain how, after basically having lived through the equivalent of three action movies, high school bullies barely registered. He couldn't tell Kurt how his protectiveness stemmed from having been forced to be an entire world's protector since he was 11, and then suddenly being responsible for no one but himself. Harry knew he tended to latch on to people, desperate for connection in a world where he'd always felt separate. Kurt was brave, and funny, and kind. Harry didn't know him well yet, but he'd seen something in the taller boy's blue-green eyes that told him that he would find a friend here, and he'd clung to it without even realising. Harry felt a soft hand rest on his arm, and he glanced over to Kurt's worried eyes.

"I didn't mean to upset you," the boy whispered, leaning over conspiratorially. Harry vaguely noticed that Mr Schuester had finally shown up, and was writing on the board. _How long was I thinking for? I have got to pay more attention._Kurt continued quietly. "Really, Harry, I like you. I'm glad you're making an effort to be my friend. Please don't be upset."

"It's okay," Harry murmured back, rubbing the side of his head. "I'm fine. Just got lost in thought. I'll tell you later."

Kurt turned back to his desk reluctantly, guiltily. Harry focused on Mr Schuester, picking up his pen and starting to take his notes. He was only barely paying attention, still contemplating Kurt's point. _Merlin, I really am a weirdo, aren't I?_

Mr Schuester waved to them when the lesson ended, Kurt still shooting Harry apologetic glances every now and again even as they approached his desk. The teacher briefly discussed something about a musical with Kurt, looking between them curiously as Harry stared blankly at the wall, still thinking hard. When they were done Kurt slipped his arm through Harry's and started leading him to their next class.

"Are you okay?" the taller boy asked, biting his lip. "I _really _didn't mean to upset you, Harry. I'm just not used to people being comfortable around me. Heck, Mike still gets weird if I tap him on the shoulder and I've known him for a year. We met two days ago and you're happy to link arms with me."

"Wait, what?" Harry emerged from his daze with a confused frown. "Why does Mike get weird?"

Kurt gave him a deadpan look, "Why do you think?"

Harry just stared at him, then raised an eyebrow when he didn't elaborate, "I have no idea. That's why I asked."

Kurt's expression was caught between you-cannot-be-serious and were-you-dropped-on-your-head-as-a-child, "Because I'm gay, Harry."

"Whoa, what? Mike, like, _Glee _Mike, won't touch you because you're gay?" the tiny teen's mouth dropped open, and his voice started to raise in outrage. "That's bullshit! What, does he think you're going to molest him? Or do he and the Fury share the idea that you can catch it?"

Kurt's mouth dropped open a little as they stopped outside the Literature classroom, stammering at Harry's anger, "Uh, I don't know, actually. He's just... you know, uncomfortable. So are all the guys, really, they've just gotten used to me."

"I really fucking hate small towns," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Even good people can be idiots. You don't deserve that shit."

"It's no big deal," Kurt shrugged, smiling a little sadly. "I'm used to it. I only mentioned it because I wanted you to understand why having someone just accept me is strange to me."

"To be honest, it's strange for me, too," Harry admitted, rubbing his curse-scar idly. "I'd never had a friend in my life before I turned 11, and home wasn't fun either. At school, I was kind of an outcast because I grew up outside the -"_ Wizarding world, and also I was famous_ "- upper class."_ and people kept trying to kill me, that was fun. _"My friends there were my family, you know? Like Glee kind of is for you. Then the war happened and everyone was dying or getting partially blown up..."

Harry sighed, ducking his head away from Kurt's fascinated and sympathetic expression, "I just... I know what it's like to be the outcast, to not be accepted, you know? Hell, I know it _right now._Making friends is kind of a big deal for me. You accepting me means as much to me as me accepting you does to you."

Kurt nodded slowly, a wide smile spreading across his face, "Okay. Okay, I get it now. And you really don't have any qualms about me being gay?"

Harry rolled his eyes and slid Kurt's arm tighter in his, dragging him into the almost full classroom, "None, and I think it's fucking _stupid_ anyone does. I went to a co-ed boarding school, everyone was kind of doing everyone." _Also, wizards don't tend to care about that crap, due to the lack of religious reasons and gender equality. Score 1 for the Wizarding World. _

"Even you?" Kurt asked teasingly, but a glance at his face showed Harry the interest in his eyes. _Huh. That's interesting. _Harry just shrugged.

"By the time I was old enough to participate I was more concerned with the terrorist attacks," he said honestly. "I've been on one date with one girl in my life and have never given romance any more thought."

Now seated with Quinn and Mercedes in the back of the Literature room, Kurt and Harry stopped talking to focus on listening to a gushing Mercedes' explanation of a fight that had gone down during first period.

"I heard that Santana gave Principle Figgans some crocodile tears and got away with a warning, but Azimio is suspended," she told them with a grin. Kurt laughed uproariously, and Harry shook his head.

"Wait, so she broke four of his ribs and got a warning, he calls her a slut and gets _suspended_?" he confirmed, and Mercedes nodded. "Wow, remind me not to piss her off."

"Truefact, that girl is cold," Mercedes giggled, throwing her pencil at Kurt playfully. Quinn piped up dryly from next to her.

"She also got him Blacklisted, which means no Cheerio will put out for him for a month," the blonde girl rolled her eyes. "Which is a bit harsh considering that she _is _a raging slut."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Harry suggested helpfully, and Quinn shot him a sweet smile.

"Surely you'll protect her if big, bad Santana starts bitching," Mercedes nudged his shin with her foot, making him blush a little when she went on with an innocent smile. "Or are your body guarding services restricted to my boy Kurt?"

Harry ducked his head a bit and flattened his hair over his face self-consciously, but he managed to respond without stammering, "I'm sure I can manage."

The conversation turned to Santana's past exploits and fights, Harry listening and making mental notes to keep Santana happy. Kurt started filing Quinn's nails at one point, not bothering to stop when the teacher finally arrived (nearly 10 minutes late). Puck wandered in about five minutes after her, smirked as the teacher blushed, and dropped into his seat next to a boy in a letterman's jacket. The class consisted of the teacher passing around the worksheets she'd spent yesterday's class photocopying then talking on her phone and the students filling them out and talking for forty minutes. When Harry quietly asked Kurt if it was always like this Kurt had just grinned and confirmed it, going back to painting Quinn's nails red to match her cheerleading uniform.

"American schools are weird," the wizard muttered to himself, making Mercedes laugh.

"McKinley ain't exactly the cream of the crop," she rocked back in her chair a little, rolling her eyes when Puck joined them with a cheerful, "Whatup, my gleeks?" "It's pretty easy to keep good grades here. Hence why Puck is in the Literature class."

"I never even read Frankenstein and I'm passing," the boy with the mohawk agreed, snatching Harry's worksheet up and starting to read it. "I just watched the movie. Hey, who's this Walton guy?"

"It makes it kind of boring, but at least you won't have to worry about catching up," Quinn patted Harry's arm with her freshly painted hand. Kurt was finishing her pinkie nail on her other hand deftly, squinting a little.

"And done!" he announced proudly, leaning back. "There you go, sweetie. Good as a professional, if I don't say so myself."

"Thanks, Kurt!" Quinn leaned over and kissed Kurt on the cheek before starting to blow on her red nails. Kurt waved off her thanks and looked around.

"Mercedes, you're nails are already painted, right?" he asked, pouting when she nodded sympathetically and showed him her shiny silver nails. "Damn! I'm in the zone. I don't suppose either of you boys want a fantastic manicure?"

Puck just gave Kurt a look that screamed, 'Seriously?'. Harry smiled and said, "Sure, if you want to."

All four of the others stopped and stared at him with wide eyes. He shrank back under the attention, "What?"

"Do guys wear nail polish in England?" Quinn asked after a second, exchanging a glance with Mercedes. Harry shrugged, pushing his hair down over his face again.

"No, but if Kurt wants to do someone's nails he can do mine," Harry looked down at his desk, very aware of the confused looks he was getting.

"So, you're, like, gay too?" Puck sounded confused. Harry looked up and him and tilted his head as Quinn smacked the other boy across the back of his.

"Uh, no? What made you think that?"

"I think the implication is that only a gay guy would wear nail polish," Kurt sighed, rolling his eyes. Harry blinked.

"Oh," he thought about it for a few seconds. "Why?"

"Because it's typically something only girls do."

Harry thought back to Dumbledore's pink shimmery robes, Snape's long hair, Gilderoy Lockhart's pointed, high heeled boots._ I guess when everyone is basically wearing a dress, gender specification just seems a little dumb._

All he said was, "Whatever. I don't really care. Pretty much everyone thinks I'm gay anyway, right?"

"It may have been the general Cheerio deduction," Quinn said apologetically as Harry put his hands flat on the desk. She watched with interest as Kurt shrugged and started filing Harry's short nails. "I can let the grapevine know you're not, if you like."

"I don't mind," Harry winced as Kurt prodded him with the nail file. "Ow, what was that for?"

"You bite your nails, you evil boy!" Kurt scowled fiercely, filing down his index nail with snappy movements. "No biting! I'll do this every week if I have to but stop the biting."

"Alright, alright, just stop poking me! That thing is sharp."

The school day passed quickly. He didn't have any other classes with Kurt, but he had someone from Glee in every class. He couldn't help but be a little cold to Mike in Math class when he thought of what Kurt had told him earlier, but otherwise things went smoothly. The jocks left both him and Kurt alone for the day, apparently taking some time to plot, but Harry wasn't worried. The day remained blissfully drama free until the final bell rang. He and Artie - with whom he shared Legal Studies - met up with Kurt, Mercedes and Tina next to Kurt's locker. They were making their way outside when they heard a voice call out, "Hey! Wheels, Ladyface, Aretha, Asian, and Midget! Stop right there!"

The other four froze in place, eyes widening with fear. Harry looked at them in confusion, then looked over his shoulder. A tall blonde woman in a green tracksuit was stalking towards them, face like thunder. As they turned to face her Tina grabbed Mercedes hand, and Kurt shifted so he was slightly in front of Harry. Artie had his hands on his wheels as though ready to make a break for it, and Harry just raised an eyebrow._ What the hell...?_

"I hear Glee has itself a new member," she commented as she reached them, hands on hips. Harry looked at her warily; not only were the other glee clubbers afraid of her, her voice was somehow... off. Kurt stood up straight and spoke bravely.

"Yes, Coach Sylvester. Harry joined Glee this morning," he didn't move from his place in front of Harry, and the smaller boy realised with a start that Kurt was trying to shield him from the crazy woman. Coach Sylvester locked her eyes on Harry. Harry met her gaze easily.

"Was this your idea, Ladyface?" Coach Sylvester's voice was low, threatening, but Kurt didn't waver (although Harry noticed him grab Mercedes' other hand behind his back).

"I invited him, yes," Kurt recoiled when Coach Sylvester turned an evil eye on him.

"Do you think that was fair to your new midget friend?" she asked, not noticing Harry mutter, 'The term is little person, and I'm not one.' "He's only just started here and he's doomed to loserdom for the rest of his high school life."

Harry raised both eyebrows at this, his mouth dropping open slightly. _What the hell? Isn't this a teacher? What kind of teacher acts like this? _He stayed silent as Kurt tried to excuse himself.

"I didn't - I only suggested it, Harry chose to come. He wants to be in Glee."

"It's true," Harry confirmed softly, shifting from behind his taller friend. "I enjoyed myself this morning."

"Let me break it down for you, midget," the Coach put a hand on Harry's shoulder, digging her fingers in almost painfully. Harry narrowed his eyes at her, clenching his fists as his temper began to stir. "William McKinley High School has a natural order. The cooler you are, the better your life is. Being one of my Cheerios is like being a Princess amongst serfs. Being a football player is like being a King. Being a Glee clubber is like being a Jew in Germany in 1942."

"What."

Coach Sylvester spoke over Harry's flat, disbelieving voice without pausing, "Now, obviously someone of your stature couldn't play a sport or be in Cheerios, people would laugh and think it was a joke. But being in Glee club? That puts you on the bottom rung of our little society."

Harry stared at her with a flat expression. Around him, his new friends shuffled nervously. Eventually, he found the calm to speak, "I don't care. And did you seriously just use a WWII comparison for a _high school_?"

Coach Sylvester waved off his incredulity, "Sure, you say that now. But think about it. If you join Glee-"

"I _already did_."

"-and you can say goodbye to dating the prettiest Cheerios-"

"If being in Glee negates that, I don't want to date them."

"-being invited to the coolest parties-"

"I hate parties."

"-and look forward to be slushied daily."

"They tried that today. They missed. Look, Coach Sylvester, was it?" Harry rubbed his forehead, feeling a frustrated headache coming on. "I appreciate you, uh, looking out for my happiness or whatever the heck it is you're doing, but I'm quite happy in Glee. As long as I have friends, which I do, I can handle not being popular or cool or whatever it is you're talking about."

"I can see that you've already been brainwashed-"

"_What!_?"

"So I'm going to give you another chance. Leave Glee and I'll make sure all those jocks who've decided you've replaced Ladyface as they're new favourite target that you're under my protection," Coach Sylvester smiled a sly smile, and Harry just looked at her, open mouthed. "So what do you say, Midget? You going to do the smart thing and kick that loser club to the curb?"

"What the hell kind of teacher are you!"

"Sue!" Mr Schuester's voice reached the five teenagers, and all but Harry (who was too busy trying to work out what the hell was going on) sighed in relief. The Glee instructor was walking over to them, scowling at Coach Sylvester fiercely. "What are you doing?"

"Hey, William, I thought I smelled the toxic fumes you call hair product," Coach Sylvester greeted him cheerfully. Harry was gobsmacked by the insult, but a glance at Mr Schuester showed that the man wasn't surprised. "I was just giving your new student a chance to escape before Glee ruins his life."

Mr Schuester closed his eyes briefly, and took an aborted breathe that Harry was willing to bet was a swear word, "Sue, we've talked about this. Anyone who wants to be in Glee can be in Glee. Harry's a great singer, and Glee isn't going to ruin his life. It may not be the most popular club in the school right now-"

"Oh, get over yourself William," Coach Sylvester interrupted him. Mr Schuester stepped so he was between the kids and her, subtly motioning with a hand that they should escape. "You are willing to risk the happiness of that boy to further the goals of your pathetic little club, and I personally find it objectionable."

Artie, Tina and Mercedes started to sneak away. After a moment, Kurt started tugging Harry after them. Harry was too gobsmacked to do anything but follow. The five gleeks snuck away quickly, breaking into a sprint (Mercedes pushing Artie) when they rounded the corner. They burst out of the front doors of the school gratefully, slowing to a halt. Tina, Mercedes and Kurt were all breathing heavily and ready to collapse from their dash; Mercedes and Tina both leaning on Artie's wheelchair, Kurt clutching Harry's arm to stay upright. Harry supported Kurt's weight easily, shaking his head in amazement.

"Is she always like that?" he wondered. Artie answered.

"Ooh, yeah. Coach Sylvester is freakin' nuts."

"He's right," Tina nodded, brushing her long, streaked hair out of her eyes. "She's always trying to destroy Glee, and she gets away with everything."

"Last week, she set a girl's bag on fire because it had the symbol of anarchy on it," Mercedes told him seriously. Kurt had pulled out a compact mirror and was fixing his hair, but he paused to shoot Harry a sympathetic glance.

"She's a lot to get used to. Sorry I didn't warn you," he reached out and patted Harry's arm. Harry shot him an incredulous look.

"How the hell is she still employed?" he demanded. "Seriously, I had some crazy teachers but _what the hell_?"

The other gleeks laughed and started walking down the wheelchair ramp to the car park. Harry followed, shaking his head. He and Kurt said goodbye to the others, who were heading towards Artie's dad's car, before turning towards their own.

"So, you've gone to an early Glee rehearsal, someone has tried to slushie you, and you've met the infamous Coach Sylvester," Kurt nudged Harry with his shoulder as they approached his car. "You're officially a McKinley student. How does it feel?"

Harry thought about it, smiling a little. He looked at Kurt through his hair, and nudged back gently, "Pretty good."

He automatically opened Kurt's door for him when he unlocked it, and the boy raised an eyebrow at him. He blushed and shrugged, "See you tomorrow, then?"

Kurt contemplated him for one more moment, then smiled, "I'm glad to hear we haven't scared you off yet, Harry Potter. See you tomorrow."

Harry stepped back as Kurt pulled out, watching him drive off thoughtfully. He hopped into his own car, waving at Mercedes as he drove out. Things were going to be interesting, but that was probably a good thing. Harry wasn't sure he'd know what to do with boring.


	5. Chapter 4

(A/N: Another chapter, because I love you ~ Finally we're getting to actual plot. Once again, reviews are love. The next chapter won't be up before Friday, probably Saturday. I have to start pacing myself so I don't burn out. Thank you so much to everyone who reviews, I check about 18 times a day and do a little happy dance when I see another one. Check out my other stories too, if you like. They're all a similar style.

REGARDING SPELLING: Look, I cannot freaking spell. I really, really can't. I've been reading heavily since I was seven and I type_ for a living_ but I still can't. I run these chapters through two kinds of spell check and have two Beta readers but I guess things are still slipping through the cracks. I do apologise, but I'm not sure how much more I can do about it. The grammar issues I really do apologise for. I don't actually know any rules of grammar (my primary school taught mainly to the lowest common denominator) but I usually think my grammar is okay. I know I ignore rules in favour of stylistic aesthetic, but I know I overuse adverbs. I'm kind of addicted to them really. THank you for the feedback, it's all helpful.)

* * *

The weeks leading up to Sectionals continued in this vein. Harry slipped into the rhythm of New Directions easily; he traded jokes with Finn, Sam and Artie, was a source of advice for the girls, listened to Puck's outrageous stories indulgently, and was a constant companion to Kurt. The jocks tried to give him a hard time, but quickly found it wasn't easy to do. He ignored insults, dodged shoves and slushies, and simply pushed them away if they tried to block him. Harry had also started walking Kurt to all his classes so they couldn't take their frustrations out on him. The classes were easy, despite his lack of background, and Glee was, to his surprise, a hell of a lot of fun. Given the chance, Harry actually really enjoyed singing and dancing. Sure, the group was great and he would have stayed for them anyway, but the music held its own appeal for him. He'd never had a chance to really listen to music before; now, he had an iPod that was bursting with everything from Broadway to hard rock. Harry kept constant contact with Ron and Hermione too, writing to them every day and keeping up with their news. Ron was enjoying Auror training, though he was finding it unbelievably hard, and Hermione had started a protest group for equal rights for all magical beings. She'd nearly been arrested at one particularly loud Ministry protest; luckily for her the Law Wizard they'd sent to arrest them had been Roger Davies. Apparently they'd had a nice chat about the Yule Ball before he called off the Law Wizards and told her to have a great day. Both of them were thrilled that Harry was making new friends, and loved his stories about Kurt. Harry and Kurt had become nigh inseparable, and not only because Harry was walking him to class. They'd just clicked. They were both sarcastic and smart, and both used to being rejected and outcast, but they accepted one another. Harry spent many evenings in Kurt's basement, studying or watching musicals (Being educated, Kurt called it on both occasions). Sometimes Mercedes would join them, and rarely so would Tina or Quinn. Recently the girls had been shooting him weird looks, and exchanging knowing glances that just confused him, but other than that (and the constant nightmares, but those had been normal since second year) Harry was really enjoying life. It wasn't as uneventful as he'd imagined, jocks and slushies adding a little drama to everyday life, but no one was in any danger.

He was sitting in Glee one afternoon, Kurt on one side and Artie on the other. Kurt was showing him photos of some of their old costumes on his iPhone and Harry had been laughing since he'd seen the cowboy hats, when a shiver of warning flowed across the room. Harry paused, and looked over. His magic was trying to tell him something, something dangerous-

Harry shot out of his seat, pushing through Mr Schuester and Rachel's conversation. He grabbed Brad, the pianist, by the back of the shirt and pulled him away from the piano. A split second later the legs of the piano cracked and split, and the heavy instrument crashed to the floor. There were cries and gasps around the room and Brad was so shocked he nearly spoke. Harry helped the man steady himself, looking at the ruined instrument in shock. Mr Schuester was asking Brad if he was okay, and Harry felt Kurt's familiarly soft hand take his.

"Are you alright? How did you know that was going to happen? You moved so fast," Kurt demanded, looking Harry up and down for injuries. Harry's mind worked quickly.

"I heard it cracking," he said eventually. Kurt looked confused, but nodded.

"Mike, can you go and see if Principal Figgans is still here?" Mr Schuester sent the boy from the room, patting Brad on the shoulder. He shouted to be heard over the frantic conversations around him. "Guys! It's okay. Brad is fine, thanks to Harry, and we'll just get it replaced. It was a cheap piano, it's probably just worn down."

"How did you know what was about to happen, dude?" Puck demanded of Harry, who shifted uncomfortably next to Kurt.

"I heard it cracking," he repeated more firmly, pushing his hair down. Rachel frowned.

"I didn't hear anything and I was standing closer to it then you were-"

"Yeah, well, if you live in a war zone for two years you'll come out with amazing situational awareness too," Harry snapped, pulling away from Kurt. The rush of adrenaline from having to use his magical awareness for something other than a slushie was reminding him painfully of fighting, and he could feel himself begin to panic, _Don't freak out, don't freak out. _Rachel looked put out by his harsh tone, and Kurt raised an eyebrow at his suddenly stiff posture. Harry sighed, forcing himself to take long breaths. "Sorry, it's just - I just reacted to the sound, I didn't even think about it."

"That's good, you probably stopped Brad from getting both his legs broken," Mr Schuester soothed him, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry flinched, still buzzing with anxiety, and he could see some of the gleeks giving him odd looks. _Don't freak out, don't freak out. _"Look, everyone just sit down, I'll ask Principal Figgans to replace the piano and it'll be fine."

Harry went to sit down with everyone else, but Mr Schuester's grip tightened on his shoulder. The teacher leaned in to speak to him, and Harry fought down the urge to push him away, "Are you okay, Harry? You look a little pale."

"How can you tell?" Harry asked wryly, blowing his hair out of his face momentarily to prove his point. Mr Schuester smiled, but his eyes were still worried.

"Look, Harry," the teacher looked over at the assembled teens. The only one paying attention to them was Kurt, who was watching them worriedly over Mercedes' shoulder. Mr Schuester dropped his voice. "I've read your file, so I know about your... post traumatic stress."

Harry froze, eyes widening, "Oh."

"It said that surprises can cause you to - can upset you," the teacher correct himself, but Harry caught it.

"Can cause me to have anxiety attacks, you mean," he corrected darkly, looking at his feet. He could feel his heart beating hard, and the shivers of fear racing down his spine, but he was in control. Barely. "Yeah, they can. But I'm okay. I'm not going to freak out."

"Are you sure? Because if you want to take five to get your breath back, you can," Mr Schuester assured him.

"No, I just-" Harry looked back at the group, and saw that a few more eyes were on him; Santana, Brittany, Artie, Puck... all staring at him with open curiosity. He could still hear the crash in his head, feel the shivers of that warning of, _Danger, danger, danger... _His mind conjured memories of all the times it had happened before, of ducking curses and shrapnel and fire. His breathing sped up again as he fought to urge to panic, and he forced his eyes back to Mr Schuester, "Actually, maybe that would be a good idea."

The teacher nodded encouragingly, "Sure, go right ahead. We won't be doing anything more for a while, anyway."

Harry nodded and left without risking a glance at the group. He walked to the nearest bathroom quickly, ducking inside and rushing to the sink. He leaned over it, running the water to give himself some white noise, and shut his eyes. He sank into an almost-meditation like state as his Healer had taught him, taking deep breathes and trying to think of nothing.

After the war he'd been a total mess. His lifetime of danger and getting hurt had all come to a head with a year of intense, hellish training, followed by the week long Siege of Hogwarts. After spending nearly a month recovering from the physical injuries, even with magic, he'd needed months of daily therapy and an addiction to strong calming droughts before he wasn't having panic attacks when someone dropped a book. He was better now, so much better, but he wasn't well yet. The feeling of horror and terror creeping up his throat, even though he knew he was safe, proved that. He stayed resting against the sink for about a minute, just breathing. He heard the door open and recognised the familiar click-clack of Kurt's shoes. The other boy didn't speak, just stood quietly behind Harry while the boy calmed himself. Eventually Harry opened his eyes, shooting Kurt a weak smile. His friend's face was concerned.

"You okay? You looked pretty upset in there," Kurt asked him gently, stepping forward but not, Harry noticed, reaching to touch him as he usually would. Harry grimaced.

"I wasn't kidding about the situational awareness thing, the war made me pretty paranoid," Harry muttered, looked at his pale, hair-veiled face in the mirror. "It just - the noise brought up some stuff."

"I can't imagine," Kurt murmured, watching him closely. "I'm sorry I jumped down your throat before, I was just shocked."

"S'okay, everyone was," Harry gave Kurt a half-smile and shrugged. "I owe Rachel one, too."

Kurt nodded, still looking at him thoughtfully. The taller boy took a tentative step towards him, and Harry's smile became wry, "I'm not going to freak out on you, if that's what you're worried about."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'm not worried about that, it's just - my instinct is to try and hug you, but you flinched when Mr Schuester touched you so I don't really know if you want me to touch you right now."

Harry paused, then smiled, "I think I'm calm enough now. A hug actually sounds really good."

Kurt smiled at him and put out his arms. Harry stepped forward and slipped his arms around Kurt's waist. He sighed happily when he felt Kurt's slender arms around him. He'd never been hugged as a child, not once in his memory. Then along came Hermione and Ron, both from physically affectionate families, turning Harry into (as Ron so kindly called it) a hug-junkie. He'd missed that warm feeling it gave him when he'd moved here; thank Merlin for Kurt. After a few moments, Kurt pulled back and held Harry at arm's length, "Feel better?"

"Much," Harry admitted, feeling his face heat up a little. "Shall we head back?"

"Yes, let's," Kurt agreed, taking Harry's arm carefully. "I want to watch the fireworks when Mr Schuester tells Principal Figgans that we need a new piano. Glee has, like, no funding."

"Huh," Harry filed that away for future consideration. Kurt nodded.

"Yeah, so this should be pretty entertaining. If only we had a chance to grab some popcorn we'd be set."

They heard the argument before they even got back to the choir room. Principal Figgans and Mr Schuester were standing just outside the door, and Mr Schuester didn't look happy.

"Schue, my hands are tied," Figgans insisted, making Mr Schuester sigh and look up at the ceiling. "There simply isn't money in the budget for a new piano. Do you know how much those things cost? You'll simply have to use a CD."

"We can't just use a CD, we arrange the songs differently. There are no backing tracks available for a lot of what we do. Having a pianist is vital to the musical growth of these students!" Mr Schuester insisted as Harry and Kurt approached. "Not to mention if we can't get a new piano, Brad's out of a job."

"That's not my problem, Schue," Figgans shook his head, spotting the boys approaching over Mr Schuester's shoulder. "I'm sorry, that's the end of the story."

"What about a keyboard, or something?" Mr Schuester tried. "Our old one broke but a new one would only cost a few hundred dollars."

"You don't have any money left in your budget, Schue," Figgans told him firmly. "You actually went over with your last project with them! You owe the school $300!"

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted softly, feeling his face flush when the teachers looked at him but ploughing on anyway. "If someone were to, say, donate a piano, would that be accepted? Can the club accept donations?"

Figgans raised an eyebrow but nodded, "Yes, clubs are allowed to take donations from private collections. Do you have a piano to donate?"

"No, but I can buy one," Harry admitted, looking at Kurt nervously. "I - uh, I can afford it."

"Harry, pianos cost thousands of dollars," Mr Schuester told him kindly, spreading his hands in a gentle shrug. "I couldn't ask you to spend that kind of money. We'll work something out. Maybe a bake sale?"

"Oh Gaga, not again."

"No, really," Harry tried not to laugh at the horror in Kurt's voice. "I can afford it. I'm the last living member of an old family. I have a trust fund that could buy out Las Vegas. But don't tell anyone," the last part he directed at Kurt, who raised an eyebrow. "I hate being thought of as 'the rich-kid', it makes people weird."

"Didn't you say you grew up in middle-class Surrey?" Kurt pointed out, and Harry nodded.

"I did, I didn't inherit until I turned 16, but I can afford the piano," Harry turned his attention back to the teachers. "No problem, just find the one you want and I'll write a check."

"That settles that!" Principal Figgans looked much more cheerful, clapping his hands and addressing Mr Schuester. "Just give this boy the information he needs and you'll have your piano. I'll get the janitors to clean up what's left of this one tomorrow. Good bye, Schue, children."

With that, he turned and walked away, Mr Schuester still spluttering behind him. The glee instructor sighed and turned to Harry balefully, "Are you sure you can afford it?"

"No problem," Harry assured him, smiling through his hair. "Seriously, I want to. It'll be good for Glee."

"Alright," the teacher agreed reluctantly. "If you're absolutely sure. I won't get an expensive one."

"If you like," Harry smiled, and Mr Schuester just sighed and walked back into the choir room. Kurt stopped Harry from going in with a hand on his wrist.

"Harry, what did you mean... last living member of your family?" Kurt asked haltingly. Harry froze, and realised with a cringe that he'd never told Kurt about his parents. When he hesitated, Kurt continued gently, "You never talk about your home life and I've never been to your house so it's never come up but... did something happen to your parents?"

"They died," Harry said simply, wincing at Kurt's horrified expression. "It's okay, it was a long time ago. I don't really remember them."

Kurt's eyes looked suspiciously damp under the fluorescent lights of the hallway, so Harry reached out and squeezed his hand, "Kurt, really, it's okay."

"I can't believe you never mentioned that you're an orphan," he muttered, jerking Harry into another hug. Harry just went with it; people reacted weirdly to hearing about his family. "Who do you live with?"

"I used to live with my mother's sister and her family, but now I live with an old friend of my parents," Harry shrugged into the hug, pulling away and giving Kurt a warm smile. "Remus is great, I'm happy with him. Please don't cry, I'm terrible with crying people."

"But why don't you live with your aunt anymore?" Kurt persisted, blinking his tears back and furrowing his brow. Harry cringed and answered simply.

"Because I fucking hate them and the feeling was mutual. Can we just go back into Glee now?" Harry looked at his feet. He could just see Kurt composing himself out of the top of his eyes, and felt Kurt's arm link with his firmly.

"Of course, let's. Sorry for freaking out, I just - I'm so close to my dad, you know? Thinking about losing him..."

"I know, I've seen you with your dad," Harry smiled up at Kurt as they slipped into the choir room. Everyone was talking loudly, and Mercedes waved them over. "It's really nice to watch you two, actually. But I get why it's upsetting. It just doesn't upset me much anymore."

"Hey, here's the returning hero," Mercedes greeted him, making Harry groan.

"Oh dear Merlin, don't call me that," he shook his head. _I got enough of that in England. _"Hey, Rachel, I'm sorry for snapping at you before. I was just freaked out, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Rachel sniffed disapprovingly, but at Kurt's fierce look she relented, "It's alright. I guess I can understand that after living through such traumatic times even the slightest of reminders could be somewhat upsetting."

Harry blinked, "Right."

"Mr Schuester says that Principal Figgans authorised him to buy a cheap piano, so we should have one pretty soon," Artie told them as Kurt and Harry sat down behind Mercedes. "He sent Brad home. I don't think we're going to be doing much more today."

"I wonder why it broke in the first place," Tina wondered from Mike's lap. The group watch Puck and Finn poking at what was left of the piano. Finn was looking inside it curiously, and Puck was pulling one of the legs out from beneath the rubble. "It didn't look old to me."

"It's been sawed through."

The room froze at Puck's announcement, and Mr Schuester's head snapped up from his laptop. Puck was inspecting the edges of the broken leg, squinting at it curiously. Harry slipped off his chair and approached at the same time as Mr Schuester did. He ducked around the crouching teen and the teacher, looking for another leg.

"The edges are perfectly straight until here. That's what happens when you saw something part of the way through," Puck was explaining to Mr Schuester. As Kurt muttered, "I am _so _not surprised you know that," Harry moved a few pieces of wood out of the way, finding a leg and checking out the edges.

"He's right," he agreed, running his fingers along the split in the wood. The leg had been sawed through until only an inch of wood was left together. That part had collapsed under the weight of the piano. The room had dissolved into shocked conversation again, and Mr Schuester looked furious.

"Unbelievable," he growled, taking the leg from Puck and glaring at it. "Someone actually sabotaged our piano?"

"I bet it was Vocal Adrenaline," Rachel hissed, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. "This will not stand! I'm going to call Jesse and-"

"St James graduated last year, Manhands," Santana interrupted, rolling her eyes. "And if it was Vocal Adrenaline we'd know. They love to brag. Do you seriously still have his number?"

"Vocal Adrenaline?" Harry asked curiously, handing the other leg to a fuming Mr Schuester. Kurt rolled his eyes and explained.

"They're another Glee club, and they're kind of evil."

"They win Nationals every year. They beat us at Regionals last year," Artie added. As Harry nodded his understanding, Puck laughed.

"They TP'd our choir room, so we slashed their tires," he informed Harry gleefully, causing Mr Schuester to shoot him a baleful look. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Show choir is serious business," the tiny teen commented wryly, turning back to the shattered piano. "But if it wasn't Vocal Adrenaline, who was it? Do you think the jocks would try something like this?"

"No, they wouldn't think of it," Kurt mused, joining Harry at the piano. "They tend to stick with obvious things."

"This isn't obvious?" Harry looked at Kurt dryly. Kurt shrugged.

"It's too clever. They're not exactly masters of crime."

"I'm going to go talk to Coach Sylvester," Mr Schuester suddenly growled, turning sharply on his heel and stalking from the room. The kids let out a long, understanding, 'Ooh,' and resumed their conversation. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, and Kurt laughed a little.

"I bet this isn't the sort of thing you were expecting when you joined show choir," he teased his smaller friend. "Conspiracy, evil choirs and cheerleading coaches, becoming an accessory to a felony every time Puck opens his mouth..."

"I think we can safely say that Lima hasn't been what I was expecting in general and leave it at that," Harry agreed, rubbing his forehead. "You lot certainly know how to keep life interesting."

"It's what we do," Kurt started to pull Harry away from the ruined piano when something caught Harry's eye.

"Wait," he muttered, forcing Kurt to stop. "There's something down there. Behind the piano, see?"

The room quietened as Harry approached the shelf behind the ruined piano. There was a niggling feeling at the back of his skull that told him that the little black dot he could see was important. It looked like a tiny -

"Microphone," he muttered, following the wire around the back of the shelf with his hand. "Is there meant to be a microphone here?"

"What?" Kurt yelped, rushing over. The taller boy looked at the device in shock. "I don't - think so? Oh my Gaga, someone has been spying on us!"

There were outraged shrieks from every corner as the group stampeded over to Harry and Kurt. Harry yelped as someone crashed into him, sending him flying into Kurt. The taller boy just steadied him with one hand and continued to rant with Mercedes. Rachel was running out of the room to find Mr Schuester, and Harry sighed. _Drama, drama, drama..._

He pushed his way through the crowd and went and sat down in the seats. He pulled a pen and notepad out from his bag and started to write a letter to Ron and Hermione; apparently nothing productive was going to happen today. He had just began to describe to them the piano incident when Mr Schuester and Rachel ran back in. The crowd parted to let the teacher in, and Harry went back to his letter. After a few minutes discussion and swearing, the gleeks were returning to their seats and Mr Schuester was shaking his head in disgust.

"Coach Sylvester seemed actually confused when I told her about the sabotage, if she'd done it she wouldn't bother hiding it," he explained to Rachel as Harry put his things back in his bag. "My guess is that this was another Glee club. Aural Intensity maybe, or the school for the Deaf."

"The school for the deaf has a glee club?" Harry muttered to Kurt, who nodded.

"I'll tell you the story sometime," the slender boy assured him quietly as Mr Schuester sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"We're not going to get anymore done today, head home," he waved his hand at the kids, who all slowly grabbed their stuff and headed out. Harry walked at Kurt's side, listening to his and Mercedes' theories quietly.

"I bet Aural Intensity is trying to steal our set list," Kurt fumed, and Mercedes nodded.

"Either that, or Vocal Adrenaline is trying to get blackmail on us. Those bitches are sneaky," she added. "I don't think the Jane Adams girls will do it again, their coach seemed really sorry last time."

"Probably not, but you never know," Kurt sighed as they approached his car. "No point thinking about it now. You guys want to come over to my place? My new powder kit arrived this morning and I'm dying to see what it looks like on different people."

"Sorry boo, I got a History test tomorrow I gotta study for," Mercedes shook her head. "Can you still give me a lift home?"

"Of course! No problem. What about you, Harry? Care to lend me your eyelids and dignity for a couple of hours?" Kurt smiled widely at the smaller teen, who shrugged.

"Sure, I have nothing urgent to do. You're my ride too, anyway. Just let me call home," Harry pulled out his phone as he hopped into the backseat of Kurt's enormous car, dialling easily. Mercedes and Kurt kept up a constant stream of chatter all the way to Mercedes' house, mostly about shoes, so he just briefly told Remus not to expect him home until later and listened in. _Huh, I thought Marc Jacobs was a person. He's a shoe?_

Mercedes waved and blew kisses at them as she ran up her front porch, and Harry jumped into the front seat at Kurt's urging. Kurt started blasting Lady Gaga through his kick-ass sound system, and the two boys sang along the whole way to Kurt's. Half an hour later, Harry was trying not to laugh as Kurt both brushed a shimmery golden glitter over the smaller boy's eyelid and described his stint on the football team.

"In retrospect I can't believe they went with it, but they totally got into it," Kurt was squinting at Harry's eyelids as the other boy chuckled. "Seriously, even Puck was boogieing on down. Anyone who wasn't laughing was dancing along with them."

"Please tell me there is a video," Harry gasped, looking up at Kurt with sparkling eyes. Kurt smiled down at him.

"Yes, and I'll show it to you later if you keep still, I'm almost done," Harry stilled obediently, still grinning. The two boys were sitting on the floor of Kurt's room surrounded by pallets of eye-shadows. Harry was sitting cross-legged and leaning on Kurt's couch as Kurt knelt over him, brush in one hand and pallet in the other. The taller boy was delighting in the variety of colours that had been delivered to him that morning, and kept thanking Harry for letting him play. "Look up, I'm doing under your eye now."

Harry looked up at Kurt's face, somewhat startled when he realised how close the other boy was. Kurt's pale face was only inches from him, brow furrowed in concentration as he wiped something cold onto Harry's face with a long, soft finger. He was squinting his eyes in concentration, and Harry focused on them.

"Hey, Kurt?" he blurted out without thinking. "What colour are your eyes?"

Kurt paused and looked at Harry, his expression freezing. Harry went bright red, "I mean, I was just thinking - I'm looking right at them and I can't tell if they're green or blue."

Kurt coughed into the back of his hand awkwardly, his own cheeks becoming a little pink when he answered, "Uh, glasz. It's, like, blue and green and grey. Mercedes looked it up."

"Cool," Harry dropped his gaze, resuming looking up when Kurt poked him and started smoothing that cool gel under his eyes again. The smaller boy tried to break the suddenly awkward tension. "Sorry, I know that was out of the blue, it just came to me all of a sudden."

"No, it's fine," Kurt tried to smile, but his face was so stiff it looked more like a grimace. "I mean, what else are you going to look at right now."

He gave an awkward laugh, and Harry cleared his throat. Kurt spoke a little more hesitantly, "I didn't think of it but - I'm not making your uncomfortable, am I? I mean, I'm all over you - just to put your make up on, I didn't even think about it like _that-_"

"What? No!" Harry's eyes went wide. "You're fine, Kurt. Really. I was just thinking out loud. I mean, if I was uncomfortable with you leaning over me would I be sitting here wondering about the colour of your eyes?"

"I guess not," Kurt relaxed a little, and shot Harry a shy smile before hesitantly returning to applying a powder below Harry's eyes. He cleared his throat and spoke quickly. "You have really nice eyes, actually. I don't think I've ever seen eyes as green as yours."

Harry's face was doing its closet impression of a tomato when he stammered, "Thanks."

There were several moments awkward silence as Kurt hurriedly brushed some gold glitter across Harry's cheeks. The taller boy pulled back the moment he was done, deftly putting the caps on all the open containers, "There you go! Pretty as a princess."

"Just what I always wanted."

"I bet. Have a look," Kurt handed Harry a silver hand mirror. Harry took it and cracked a grin. Kurt had had fun layering shimmery greens and greys with various shades of glitter over his eyelids and down his face. The scarring was actually hardly noticeable under all the glamour.

"I look like one of Lady Gaga's back up dancers," he laughed, looking up at Kurt with a wide smile. Kurt chuckled and leaned back on his heels.

"You kind of do. Hold still, I want to take a picture," Harry groaned but did as he was told, even blowing the camera a kiss when Kurt said he was sending a picture to Mercedes. The awkwardness was politely not remarked upon for the rest of their evening, but Harry didn't forget it. Later, after Kurt had taken him home and he was safely ensconced in his room he thought back to it. _Why the hell was I so focused on his eyes? I see them every day. I mean, he _does _have really nice eyes, obviously, but what the hell was up with that? And why was he so sure I'd be uncomfortable? He was just doing my makeup - as weird as that may be - but there wasn't anything...suggestive...was there?_

_I guess the way he was leaning over me was kind of intimate. He was _really _close, like, could have kissed him close - why was that the first thing that came to mind? - but I wasn't uncomfortable. Should I have been? Was there something suggestive in that?_

Harry sighed and pulled out his half finished letter to Ron and Hermione. Hermione would have some advice for him, she always did. Even when he didn't really want it.

_Just wanting to use you for your brain for a moment, Hermione,_ Harry wrote._ I was at Kurt's this afternoon, letting him do my make up (he wanted to practice on someone, alright? ) when all of a sudden, out of the blue, even I don't know where it came from, I asked him what colour his eyes were (apparently they're glass or glaze or something that means 'lots of colours').It suddenly got really awkward and he was worrying that I was uncomfortable with him being so close to me, which is nuts because if I were uncomfortable I would have said something... I know I was acting kind of weird with the eye thing, but I don't get why everything got so tense. Did I make some sort of major social faux pas that I've missed? Was there something weird about the situation (other than the whole make up thing)? I also want to know why I got so distracted by his eyes in the first place, but I doubt you can help me with that one, Hermione._

_Anyway, I'll keep you updated on the whole Glee-Club-Mystery thing if you send me the Prophet articles about your protests. I want to see you being all civil-y disobedient and stuff. Ron, if you wanted to sleep, you shouldn't have started Auror training._

_Love you both,_  
_Harry_  
_PS: Ron, Fred and George recently sent me a thank you letter for giving them an idea. I have no idea what they meant, but I'd be nervous if I were you._

Harry put his pen down and sealed the letter in a parchment envelope. He felt a pang when he thought about what they'd be doing when they got his letter, about how Hermione would read it aloud because if she didn't, Ron would crease it. He wondered if they kept them; he kept all of their letters in a file in the hidden draw in his desk. He looked at the muggle pictures on his wall; Hermione smiling at the camera over a copy of A Tale of Two Cities, Ron balancing a bottle of butter beer on his nose, the three of them piled on top of one another on a couch in the Gryffindor common room, laughing and smiling. He looked away. _No point in torturing myself._

He could hear Remus vacuuming downstairs for the third time today, and sighed. The house was spotless, but cleaning helped Remus relax. He'd woken Harry up more than once because he'd been scrubbing the windows. Harry lay on his bed on top of the covered and shut his eyes. His mind was whirring with thoughts of Ron and Hermione, normalcy, and Kurt. The many dramas and stresses of the day exhausted him, and he found himself drifting off...

_He's sitting in Glee. Rachel is singing, three notes pouring from her mouth over and over in a twisted kind of lullaby. Kurt is sleeping on his shoulder. Puck is in Artie's wheelchair. The piano crashed and Brad falls. No one reacts. Harry turns to Kurt. His eyes are wide open, but unseeing. There's blood dripping from his mouth. Rachel keeps singing. He's at Hogwarts, and it's burning. Dennis Creevy's body is lying twisted at the bottom of the stair of the Entrance Hall. A second year is fleeing, screaming, bleeding. She's cut down by a flash of green light and falls. He can still hear Rachel singing amongst the screaming. He wants to help but he can't move, his feet a pinned and he can only watch helplessly as the Deatheaters cut them down, all the children..._

His wand was in his hand when his eyes snapped open. His room was still lit by his lamp, and a brief glance at his clock told him it was 1.54 AM. Harry sat up unsteadily, feeling rushing nausea at the memory of the burning, the dead, the smell of the fires... He fumbled in his bedside drawer for a Calming Drought. When his hand closed over the cool vial he sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, but pulled the stopper out and drank it down anyway.

Harry hated that he needed the pale blue potion the way he did. He hated that he needed it to sleep, to prevent his anxiety attacks, to stop himself from jumping and panicking at every shadow and noise in the halls of the school. He hated that being separated from it made him antsy, that taking it just two hours late made him feel sick and weak and scared. He hated that he didn't function without it.

He could feel the drought soothing his frantic heartbeat, cooling the sweat on his skin. He changed quickly into his sleep clothes and brushed his teeth, wanting to be in bed when the best of the relaxing properties hit him. It didn't make him sleep per se, but it was easy to drift off when he was riding that calm high. He cleared his mind of his troubled thoughts, determined not to think of his homesickness or memories. He slipped back into sleep much more peacefully, mind blank but for a pair of laughing, blue-green eyes.


	6. Chapter 5

(A/N: This is the longest chapter to date! *Happy face* I hope you all like long chapters as much as I do. I promise you that this story will never have chapters shorter than 4,000 words. I am far too overly verbose for that.

REGARDING MY PREVIOUS RANT: Okay, my rant last chapter was just to let people know that I'm not just being lazy with my (numerous and frequent) spelling errors. I just didn't want you guys to think that I didn't love you enough to run through spell check. It absolutely was NOT me bitching about constructive criticism. I love people taking the time to let me know how my writing is going! Long reviews get read to family and friends for the sole purpose of stroking my ego, even if they do contain criticism. As long as your not bitchy about it, feel free to tell me that my grammar wasn't up to par or that I misspelled every word in paragraph six. I will never take offence. I'll just take the opportunity to improve as a writer, and maybe one day actually get around to writing original stuff. So I'm super sorry for making people feel bad about letting me know that I had gramatical or spelling errors. That wasn't my intention at all.

Reviews make my world go around and make me do silly happy dances at work. A special shout out to JasonDragon64 , Kakariki , UchidaKarasu , and hitorisuko, whose frequent, in depth reviews have been much appreciated. If I'm missed anyone else who has reviewed consistantly and with great effort, I apologise. These were just the four that came to mind.

* * *

The next morning he got a mass Glee text from Rachel at 7.30, telling him that there was an early Glee rehearsal and to get to school ASAP. He threw on his clothes and downed another Calming Drought, leaving a note for Remus on the kitchen table and running out the door. By the time he got to the choir room most everyone was there; only Santana, Puck, and Artie hadn't arrived yet. Harry slipped into the scene next to Kurt, who looked at him silently for a moment, then started to laugh.

"What?" he asked curiously, tilting his head as Kurt just laughed harder. Behind him Mercedes and Tina exchanged confused looks, and Harry shrugged at them. He had no idea either.

Kurt finally reached out a laughter-shaking hand and gently brushed Harry's hair out of his face. Now Tina's eyes were wide and Mercedes was joining Kurt in hysteria. At Harry's raised eyebrow, Kurt's managed to gasp, "Oh, Harry. You forgot to take the eye shadow off last night!"

Harry froze, his eyes going wide. Thinking back, he hadn't bothered to wash his face, and he'd been in such a rush this morning he hadn't showered. Kurt handed him his compact, and Harry looked at his face. All the careful layering was gone, leaving him with a sweat-smudged, tear-streaked green sparkly mess from his mouth to his forehead.

"Oh, I look just _gorgeous_," he deadpanned, sending Mercedes and Kurt into further fits of laughter. "Anyone got a tissue?"

"I have moist towelettes in my bag," Kurt reached down and grabbed a packet. "Here, I'll get it off for you."

"Thanks," Harry slipped his glasses off and sat still as Kurt leaned close, rubbing soothing circles across his face with the damp towelette. It reminded Harry of him putting the dreaded stuff on the night before. The thought made Harry raise his eyes to look at Kurt's again; they were still fascinating and strange. Beautiful. _Wait, what? _Harry dropped his eyes down, letting them rest on Kurt's mouth. Harry's lips quirked into a smile when he noticed that he could see Kurt's tongue just peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. _O__kay, that's adorable and I'm not afraid to admit it._

"What's this meeting about, anyway?" Harry asked the boy wiping glitter off his face. Kurt shrugged a little.

"Probably about the sabotage, if I had to guess," he squinted at Harry's face. "How did you get glitter on your chin? Close your eyes."

"I have no idea," Harry grimaced, shutting his eyes obediently. He felt the soft, damp material being stroked gently across his eyelids, and realised with a start that Kurt was so close he could feel the other boy's breath on his cheeks._ That feels significant and I don't know why._"I was so tired yesterday, I literally fell asleep on top of my bed rather than in it."

"Hence why you didn't see this in the mirror," Kurt deduced. Harry grimaced.

"I try to avoid mirrors in general, actually," he muttered, looking at Mr Schuester out of the corner of his eye. The teacher was pacing back and forth, nodding to Santana as the girl stomped in with a coffee in hand. Kurt paused for a moment , then resumed resolutely.

"That's just silly," Kurt sniffed disapprovingly. At Harry's raised eyebrow he insisted. "You're a good looking guy. You shouldn't want to avoid mirrors."

"I look like a 12-year-old wearing a Frankenstein mask," he countered with a shrug. "I know it. You don't have to try and spare my feelings."

"You do not look like a 12-year-old wearing a Frankenstein mask!" Kurt protested hotly, poking Harry in the side. Mr Schuester tried to call the room to order but he continued to wipe the powder off Harry's face and scold him. "Honestly, and you call me melodramatic."

"You _are _melodramatic."

"Whatever, you _so _cannot talk. 12 year old in a Frankenstein mask, really."

"Kurt, Harry, could you stop... whatever you're doing, please?" Mr Schuester interrupted them gently. Harry answered him politely when Kurt completely ignored him.

"Sorry, Mr Schue, Kurt's just cleaning last night's make up on my face," there was a confused pause around the room, and Harry quietly addressed Kurt. "I can't see without my glasses; what was his expression like?"

"Pretty priceless," Kurt admitted, before speaking up. "I'll only be another second Mr Schue, please start. We'll be quiet."

"Right," Mr Schuester sounded a little flummoxed. "Right. Guys , I - have any of you received any threatening messages or strange pieces of mail recently?"

Harry turned to face the teacher curiously, and Kurt leaned back to do the same. Across the room confused glances were exchanged, and slowly everyone shook their heads. Kurt added, "No more than the usual 'death to all faggots' sort, but that's normal," cheerfully, ignoring Harry's horrified, "What?"

Mr Schuester cringed at Kurt's comment, but continued with a sigh, "It's probably nothing to worry about, but I get a letter in the mail yesterday that consisted of a bunch of photos of you guys performing cut up. I spoke to the police, they can't do anything yet, and I'm going to send a letter to each of your parents but I wanted to make sure none of you had gotten anything like that first?"

"So someone is out to get us?" Rachel asked, her voice shrill and her eyes as wide as saucers. Mr Schuester smiled at her gently.

"It's probably just an immature prank, someone trying to scare us. But let me know if anything unusual happens, okay? I'm not going to take any chances with you guys."

There were nervous murmurs around the room, and Mercedes took Kurt's hand and squeezed it. Harry was frowning, thinking up ways to make sure they'd all be safe. _Alert Charm? Only works at close range and I'd need their permission. Don't know how to ward and it would only work in the choir room. Can't be everywhere at once without a Time Turner and those things are more trouble then they're worth. I'll ask Ron, he might have learned something._

"I don't want you guys to stress about this," Mr Schuester spoke over the top of the noise. "Like I said, it's probably just a prank. But keep your eyes open and look out for one another, okay?"

The group murmured it's agreement, and Mr Schuester motioned for them to relax. Harry was deep in thought when he felt the cold towelette swipe across his face again, and he jumped.

"That's most of it," Kurt told him, dropping the towelette into the smaller boy's hands. "There's still a bit of glitter here and there, that stuff is tenacious, but at least you don't look like Elphaba's half-brother anymore."

"Thanks, Kurt," Harry smiled and slipped his glasses back on, letting his hair fall back in his eyes. Kurt sighed at the motion.

"I wish you wouldn't cover up your face like that," the slender boy tugged on a the end of Harry's fringe. "You're not bad looking, even with the scarring."

"I just hate being stared at," Harry shrugged, flattening his fringe down. Mercedes' face appeared over Kurt's shoulder.

"You could at least get it out of your eyes when you're in here," she suggested with a mischievous grin. "We won't stare at the scars. Can't promise not to stare at your gorgeous face though."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yes, I'm sure that will be a huge problem. I wouldn't want to distract you."

"He thinks he looks like a 12 year old in a Frankenstein mask," Kurt told his girl seriously as Quinn and Sam joined them. "I tried to tell him that that is total crap but he didn't believe me."

"I know what I look like!" Harry insisted, grinning at Mercedes and Tina as Kurt fixed his already flawless hair in his compact. "I have a face like a Hallowe'en costume, and I'm so tiny I get mistaken for a middle schooler."

"You're not that short," Kurt protested, but Harry could see the knowing glance Tina and Mercedes exchanged. Harry laughed.

"Yes, I am. I don't have to duck going through medieval doorways. Puck can rest his elbow on my head without raising his arm. I'd have to stand on a chair to kiss Finn. I'm short."

The last explanation sent Tina and Mercedes into a fit of giggles and made Kurt choke. Sam spoke up for the first time.

"Comparing yourself to Finn is a little unfair, he's taller than everyone," the blonde boy was shaking his head and smiling. Harry corrected him.

"I'm not comparing myself to Finn, I'm comparing myself to people who've kissed him."

Quinn laughed, "We dated last year, I didn't have to stand on a chair to kiss him. I mean, he had to bend down quite a lot..."

"Yes, but you're taller than me, love. So is Rachel," Harry shook his head mournfully. "I'm still holding out hope for one last growth spurt, but otherwise I'm going to be fun-sized for the rest of my life."

"I think you're adorable," Kurt announced firmly, slapping Mercedes upside the head when she muttered, "We know." Harry looked at her curiously, but she was back to giggling with Tina. Kurt continued as thought she hadn't interrupted. "If I hear you put yourself down again, I'm going to drag you back to my house and give you a makeover so you can see just how good you can look."

"You'll need a paper bag and stilts," Harry quipped, yelping when Kurt smacked him upside the head, scowling.

"Enough of that! I think it's a damn tragedy when beautiful people don't know they're beautiful," Kurt directed the last part to Mercedes and Tina, who nodded through their laughter. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Isn't that a bit hypocritical?" Harry poked the smaller boy in the side, making Sam and Quinn laugh when he squeaked and batted Harry's hand away. "Just last week you were complaining about hating your nose and having pear hips, whatever that means."

Kurt flushed pink and tossed his head, averting his eyes from Mercedes as she let out an annoyed noise, "So? What's your point?"

"My point is that you're gorgeous," Harry rolled his eyes. "If you get to bitch about having a big nose - which you don't have, by the way - and having pear hips - and I don't even know what that _means _but I'm pretty sure you don't have them - then I can bitch about looking like an extra from a horror movie."

Kurt's face was bright red and Mercedes and Tina were giggling again. Quinn and Sam exchanged surprised, happy glances, and Harry was convinced he'd missed something, "What?"

"Nothing," Kurt assured him quickly, kicking Mercedes in the shin gently. "Ignore the peanut gallery. Thank you, by the way. For the compliment."

Harry shrugged, "It's just the truth."

And it was, as far as Harry was concerned. Kurt was a beautiful person. All flawless skin, angular face and long limbed. Harry'd never really given much thought to it, he just... noticed. Given the giggling and glances going on around him, maybe he shouldn't have.

The wizard just sighed and slipped low in his chair, allowing himself a little sulk as the conversation turned to whether or not Mr Rafferty would actually be touted as the cure for insomnia. Harry was tired and confused, irritated by the knowledge that no matter what he did, drama would find him. Even non-magical drama, it seemed. Finn suddenly swore loudly from the other side of the choir room, and Harry glanced over idly. The tall teen was rushing to Mr Schuester's side with his phone out in front of him.

"Mr Schue, look at this text I just got," he stammered, and the room quietened in nervous curiosity to listen. The teacher frowned and took the phone. A moment later he was pale and wide eyed. He let out a long, shaky breath.

"Jesus," he muttered. The room shifted nervously, and out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Mercedes grab Kurt's hand. Mike joined Tina from where he'd been sitting with Puck, and the boy with the mohawk focused on Finn.

"What does it say?" he asked, and Finn took his phone off Mr Schuester again. He read out the message with a shaky voice.

"It says, 'You're going to be first, Hudson. Every one of you glee kids are going to pay for what you did, but you'll be first,'" Rachel covered her mouth with a shaky hand, and Harry furrowed his brow. The room dissolved into frightened whispers as Mr Schuester started muttering about calling the police. Rachel's phone's Cabaret message tone silenced the room in an instant, and Mr Schuester rushed over to her as she checked it with shaking hands.

"'You're next, you little skank. I'll have fun with you,'" she read out weakly, and tears filled her eyes when she looked up at Mr Schuester. "Oh my God, Mr Schue, who's doing this?"

"I have no idea," the teacher rubbed his face, taking Rachel's phone from her gently with his other hand. "I'm going to call the police now. They have to take the threat seriously now."

"How did they get our numbers?" Finn wondered, wrapping an arm around a shivering Rachel's shoulder. Harry looked back at Kurt, who was pale even for him and clutching Mercedes' hand tightly. Puck's phone went off next, and he opened the message before Mr Schuester could stop him.

"'You're after that Rachel bitch you pathetic fucker,'" he read flatly, looking more offended than frightened. "Who are they calling pathetic?"

"Guys, don't answer the messages," Mr Schuester urged them. Harry quietly disagreed.

"I know it's upsetting, Mr Schuester, but whoever it is is letting us know what order they plan to go after us in. That's actually really helpful," he said gently, taking out his phone in preparation. He could see the other gleeks doing the same, holding hands with friends and significant others and looking tense. Mr Schuester picked up his own phone to call the police as Quinn's phone buzzed in her hand. She let go of Sam's hand to open the message.

"'Get ready, slut, because you're right after your babydaddy,'" she cringed and dropped her phone, Sam slipping a comforting arm around her shoulder. Harry got up from his seat and walked towards the whiteboard. He was slipping into crisis management mode, his thoughts clear and logical. He started to write up the order the messages were coming in, writing down the exact time per the clock when Mercedes' phone jingled.

"Jesus, I don't want to read that out," she dropped her phone in disgust, shaking her head as Kurt squeezed her hand. "I can't believe they used that word. I'm after Quinn though."

The room was tense as Mr Schuester spoke to the police officer in a quietly furious voice. He hung up harshly with a short burst of breath, and looked up at the kids with his hands on his hips, "They're sending police over to talk to us. Puck, could you go and get Principal Figgans? And all of you should call your parents."

"After you've gotten a text message," Harry added, and he stared calmly back at Mr Schuester when the man shot him an irritated look. "Every piece of evidence is important, including the exact time the messages come in. Our phones will all have slightly different times, this will give as a unified time frame."

As he spoke, Kurt's phone started buzzing. Harry's eyes narrowed as Kurt picked up his phone with a determined expression. He read it out in a hard voice, and Harry's chest welled with pride even as he winced in sympathy, "'You'll be next you disgusting faggot, right after your-' oh HELL no he didn't call you the N-word."

There were a few gasps and angry mutters around the room as Harry turned back to the whiteboard to mark down the time. He gave a hard sigh when he heard Kurt and Mercedes hissing angry words to one another. Rachel and Finn were on the phone to their parents, Quinn was shakily dialling her mother, and Mr Schuester was encouraging Kurt and Mercedes to do the same. Harry quietly marked it down when Tina's message came through (calling her an offensive term for a Japanese person that Harry had never heard before, confusing the Chinese-American Tina), followed by Artie's (which called him a waste of resources, to the outrage of everyone). Principal Figgans followed Puck back into the room after about 10 minutes and Mr Schuester filled him in. The Principal and the teacher had an agitated conversation that was only broken up when Santana's message came through.

"This is messed up," she said as she read it, not reading out loud. "Who the hell would do this shit?"

It was a sign of how rattled everyone was that neither Figgans nor Schuester commented on her language. The next half an hour was a mess, with parents and police coming in to question and fuss. Harry just kept writing down the times the messages came in at, continuing with Santana's to Brittany, Mike, Sam, and finally Harry. When his came in he glanced over it briefly, wrote the time down, and stepped away from the board. Kurt was sitting next to Finn now, their father and mother beside each of them respectively. Harry just stood next to Mr Schuester's desk and went over theories and plans in his head. He hadn't been around for long enough to know of any enemies the group had, other than musical rivals, but he went over possibilities anyway. Harry couldn't bring himself to call Remus; the man wasn't nearly stable enough to deal with this sort of pressure. Harry probably wasn't in all that much danger anyway, his message had said that since he was new, whoever it was didn't have so much of a grudge against him. Still threatened to kill him, of course, but at least they said it wouldn't be too painful. _That was nice of them, at least...I think my point of reference for danger has been thrown off a bit._

One of the policemen called for quiet, and gradually the room settled down. He was a middle aged man with a kind face and a soothing voice, and he managed to settle the room quite easily, "Can I have your attention please, folks? I'm Sergeant Thompson, this is Officer Walstrow. We're going to be investigating these messages you've received. I know you all much be very worried and upset, but if everyone could just keep calm we can get through this. This sort of thing usually doesn't amount to anything, but we're going to take it seriously. We'll keep you kids safe."

"What are you going to do?" one of Rachel's dad's asked, clutching her hands tightly. The sergeant smiled at him reassuringly.

"We're going to ask you all some questions this morning to try and find some leads. Until we have a solid idea of who we might be dealing with we'll have a few police officers patrolling the school. Try and stay home as much as possible until this is over, and stay with people. Don't go off on your own. We'll talk to you one by one - excuse me, son? Are your parents here?"

He was looking at Harry with a concerned expression. Harry cringed and stepped towards the police officer with a gesture, "Could I speak to you a little more privately, sir?"

The sergeant followed Harry to the corner of the room. Kurt started talking to his dad quite loudly, obviously trying to give Harry a little privacy. _Thanks, Kurt. I seriously owe that boy a fruit basket or something._

"Look, sergeant," Harry began in a low voice, leaning in so that he didn't have to speak above a whisper. "My guardian had a nervous breakdown last year, he really can't handle this sort of stress right now. I only just joined Glee, whoever is after them doesn't really have much against me. Do I have to tell him about this? It honestly might cause him to relapse."

The sergeant smiled sympathetically, "I'm sorry, kiddo, but your dad's gotta know. How else can he keep you safe?"

"Guardian," Harry corrected firmly, trying not to scowl at the tinge of patronisation in the man's voice. "Not father. And I can keep myself safe just fine. I'll be in deeper trouble if he relapses."

"I get that, but this is serious," the sergeant soothed, only serving to irritate the already stressing Harry more. "Legally, we have to alert your parents-"

"Guardian, if you please. My parents are dead and Remus has never tried to replace them."

"I'm sorry, your guardian that there have been threats made against you," the sergeant patted Harry on the shoulder, making the teenager raise his eyebrow. "Particularly someone your age."

"I'm 17, not 12," Harry muttered darkly as the sergeant returned to the centre of the room. He sighed and went to get his phone, ducking out of the room as the sergeant started answering questions from the parents. The school hallway was silent; school had started since the messages started arriving and everyone was in class. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the phone rang, trying to work out the least stressful way of explaining to Remus what was going on.

"Harry? Is everything okay?" Remus already sounded frazzled over the phone. Harry cringed but spoke soothingly.

"Hey Remus, I'm fine," he started, rubbing his forehead. "There has been a problem, but I'm okay, and I'm only going to tell you what's happened if you have a ca- your medication in hand. Okay?"

"Oh, Merlin."

"Remus, it's fine," Harry insisted. "I'm absolutely, 100% fine. Not a hair on my head is hurt or injured. I just need you to stay calm for me right now, okay?"

"Yes, of course," Remus took a deep breath, and Harry relaxed a little. "Are mug - is anyone listening?"

"Nope, just me."

"Okay. I've got my calming draught. What's happened?"

"Someone threatened some people in the Glee club I'm in," Harry began, keeping an eye on the door. He could see a few people watching him through the door and tried to smile at them. "They think it's just a prank, but they called the police anyway. They need you here to sit in when they ask me about it."

"You're being questioned?" Remus' voice raised in pitch. Harry hurried to calm him.

"Not because they think I'm involved, they know I'm not. They just want to ask me if I could have any idea who's behind it. The officers just want my guardian there to let you know what's going on."

Harry could almost see Remus nodding slowly, his brilliantly logical mind still sharp under the haze of anxiety, "That makes sense. I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Don't rush. Just ask someone at the front office to show you to the choir room," they said their goodbyes and hung up, Harry stepping back towards the choir room. Rachel and her dad's were heading out at the same time with the police officers close behind. When Rachel saw him her eyes widened a bit, but she smiled weakly.

"They're interviewing us in Mr Schuester's office," she told him quickly, reaching out and giving him a tight hug. The sergeant smiled at him kindly.

"Is your dad - sorry, your guardian on his way?" he asked Harry gently, and Harry nodded.  
"Yes, he's about 15 minutes away."

"That's good. Just go and wait in with your friends, we're going to do the interviews one at a time."

The police officer patted him on the shoulder again and watched carefully as Harry slipped inside. The choir room was noisy in that way that all rooms become when people are frightened and confused. Mr Schuester and Figgans were attempting to comfort parents, who were keeping their kids close to them. Burt Hummel had an arm around Kurt and was clinging to him tightly, his face twisted with an ugly scowl at whatever Mr Schuester was telling them. Harry could see Quinn's leaning her head on her mother's shoulder, who was stroking her hair lovingly. Puck's mother was holding his hand in a death-grip, despite the fact that it looked like they were arguing about something. Harry felt a familiar pang at the sight of all the love in the room, but shook it off; it had been a long time since Harry had allowed himself to feel jealous of people with real families, and he wasn't going to start now. For a moment he just stood in his quiet way next to the door, but Kurt saw him and waved him over. He slipped next to the slender boy, who took his hand comfortingly.

"How are you doing?" Kurt whispered, having regained his colour when he father arrived. Harry smiled a little.

"Don't worry about me," he assured the taller boy. "I'm fine. How are you?"

"Better, now," Kurt looked a little embarrassed as his father's arm tightened around him as Burt started arguing with Principal Figgans about something. "Why didn't you call your guardian? Don't you want him here?"

"I called him just then, but he's really sick," Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder idly. "I don't like putting extra stress on him, and I'm not too worried about this."

"You wouldn't be, Mr Fearless," Kurt grinned and poked him in the ribs. "I swear, you could be suspended over a pit of fire, snakes, and knives and you wouldn't be scared."

Harry considered that situation briefly. _Fire Freezing charm on the flames, talk to the snakes, Rubber charm on the knives. _"Nope, that wouldn't scare me. But other things do."

Kurt rolled his eyes and smiled indulgently, "Sure they do."

Burt chose that moment to join the conversation, apparently deciding that Figgans wasn't worth his time. He still had an arm wrapped tightly around Kurt's shoulders, completely unwilling to let his son get away from him for a moment. His eyes widened when he saw Harry, who flushed. _Why is everyone reacting like that?_

"Harry, good to see you," the man said gruffly. He'd seen Harry dozens of times in Kurt's room, usually sitting on the floor for some reason. Harry liked Burt, liked how obviously and easily he loved his son. He smiled at the man, but Burt kind of grimaced back. "Your parents on the way, then?"

"My guardian is, yes," Harry confirmed, noticing Kurt elbow his father in the side for his faux pas. Burt nodded.

"Right, sorry. How're you holding up?"

Harry shrugged, "I'm fine."

"After a year of dodging gunfire and shrapnel Harry doesn't think much of our small town stalkers," Kurt quipped, leaning against his father's side unconsciously. Harry just shrugged again and nodded matter-of-factly.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"That ain't good," Burt frowned a little. "This is serious. I don't want to hear about you taking risks just because where you came from is worse, all right? You look after yourself."

"I always do," Harry smiled at the man, but his expression flickered a little when Burt looked away uncomfortably. Harry looked at Kurt with a raised eyebrow, finding the boy looking at him with wide, guilty eyes. Kurt leaned towards him, pulling away from his father a little to whisper in Harry's ear.

"Harry, your hair is pushed back. Your face is uncovered."

Harry felt his stomach drop, the weird looks he'd been receiving suddenly making sense. He hurriedly brushed his hair over his face again, feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't realise they were showing," he mumbled to Burt, pushing his hair down firmly. Burt cringed.

"No, don't cover up for my sake, kid," the man reached out and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. Kurt looked between them nervously. "I don't care what you look like."

"They make people uncomfortable, I get that," Harry sighed a little, still blushing._ No wonder Quinn's mother looked away when she saw me. _"I just need to be more aware."

"Like I should be more aware that my clothes make people uncomfortable," Kurt added dryly, rolling his eyes. His expression implied that the only reason that Harry wasn't being called an idiot was that Kurt's father was watching. Harry went to protest but Kurt just waved him off. "Forget it. Let's go sit down. Harry's neck must be straining from looking up at us."

"Bite me."

They went and sat down next to Finn and his mother Carole. Harry found himself wedged in between Kurt and Finn, Kurt's hand resting on top of his on his leg. As the family spoke around him, he forced himself into magical awareness. He couldn't pick up any threats in the room, but a magical presence was approaching from down the hall. He recognised it as Remus, and sighed. He let the magic go on a breath, the room returning to normal around him. _Time for Hurricane Crazy Remus to blow in._

Sure enough, a few seconds later the door swung open dramatically. A few parents stood between their children and the wild-eyed, long haired man in front of them. Harry jumped to his feet as Sam's father took a threatening step towards Remus, who was looking around wildly.

"Harry?" he nearly shouted. The boy rushed over.

"I'm here, Remus. I'm fine," he soothed, letting himself be pulled into a tight hug. "I told you I was fine. Did you take your medication?"

"I didn't think I needed it," Remus muttered into Harry's hair. Harry poked him in the side playfully.

"I'm sorry, but aren't you the same guy who practically shoves my meds down my throat every day? They exist to help you," he urged teasingly, his lips twisting in a little smirk. He could feel the eyes of the room on them, and tried not to let his discomfort show; Remus was so anxious that the first sign of distress from Harry would set him off. He knew they were an odd sight. Remus was rather tall and painfully thin, his tanned skin made yellow by his months of mental illness and isolation. His eyes were hollow and there were deep bags under both of them. His hair was wild from running his hands through it and his clothes hung off his emaciated frame. A little girl on the street had once screamed at seeing him, thinking he was literally Death. Harry used the incident to convince Remus to eat more.

Remus was digging his fingers into Harry's shoulders unconsciously, looking the boy up and down for any sort of harm. Harry just raised an eyebrow at him, smiling, "Do I pass the inspection, Mr Lupin?"

Remus sighed and dropped his hands to his sides, "I'm sorry, I just worry."

"I know, it's fine," Harry assured him, taking his hand and leading him to a corner. He dropped his voice so no one could hear them, aware of curious muggle ears. "Do you have a potion with you?"

"Yes," Remus sighed again, reaching into his pocket. "I'm sorry, I must have embarrassed you in front of your friends. I should have taken the potion."

"It's fine, really," Harry assured him, blocking the room's view of him as Remus downed the potion quickly. "It happens. Trust me, I know."

Remus took a long, calming breath as the potion began to work. Harry could see his shoulders lose some of their tension and the lines on his face soften. When he spoke, the hysterical edge was gone from his voice, "So give me the whole story this time. Not the truncated, 'let's look after Loony Lupin' version that I know you gave me last time."

Harry blushed but agreed, quickly giving Remus the rundown of the situation. Remus managed to lose what little colour the Calming drought had given him as Harry spoke, but he took deep breaths and managed not to suggest that he and Harry flee for Canada immediately. By the time Harry got to the point of explaining his own theories, Remus looked ready to fall over.

"-it's also possible that it's someone who wasn't allowed in Glee, I guess, but I'm pretty sure everyone gets into Glee if they want to," he concluded with a helpless gesture. "Whatever it is, it's been brewing since before I've been around."

"But you're going to be dragged into it because it's happening to your friends," Remus added dryly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't suppose there is any point in asking you to step back from this?"

Harry shot him a Look. Remus sighed and nodded, "Right. Didn't think so. We'll just have to deal with it as it comes. Can we sit down? I'm feeling a little weak."

"Yeah, stress will do that. Come on," Harry lead a now composed Remus over to where Kurt and his family were sitting. Rachel and her dads were back, and Puck and his mother were gone. Harry hadn't even noticed the switch. Kurt was watching them approach with wide eyes, and elbowed his father as they reached them. Harry smiled behind his hair and introduced them. "Hey guys, this is my guardian, Remus. Remus, these are my friends Kurt and Finn, Kurt's father Burt and Finn's mother Carole."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Remus smiled politely, shaking Burt's hand. "Particularly you, Kurt. I've heard so much about you."

Kurt blushed and glances were exchanged between Carole and Burt. Finn grinned. Remus looked a little embarrassed. Harry had no idea what was going on. Remus cleared his throat after a moment of awkward silence and spoke a little too brightly, "I hope you boys aren't too frightened. I'm sure the police will find whoever is behind this soon."

Finn nodded easily, but Kurt shrugged, "I'm not so sure. I mean, none of us have any idea who could be behind this. There isn't a lot to go on."

"Things will work out," Carole insisted, reaching over Finn to pat Kurt's hand as Harry grabbed a few chairs for Remus and himself. "Nothing bad is going to happen to any of you."

Over the next hour the police made their way through the gleeks. Finn and Kurt went at the same time, as did Brittany and Santana for some reason. Everyone else stayed in the choir room with Mr Schuester and Principal Figgans, who looked like he was ready to cry. Harry and Remus were called in last since Harry was the newest, and the boy told them about the microphone and the sabotage to the piano. They'd heard about them already, of course, but Harry added all the details he could think of. Anything could help.

It was nearly lunch time before the police were done with them. The parents had migrated to one side of the choir room, the kids the other. The boys, except Harry and Kurt, were playing cards and the girls were painting one another's' nails. Harry was painting Tina's, having been taught by Hermione years ago, and was listening to Principal Figgans, Mr Schuester, and the police talking. When he heard the words, "Cancel Glee club," he paused in his painting.

"Would you excuse me for a moment, Tina?" he smiled at the girl, who smiled back sweetly.

"Of course! I'll finish them," she assured him, taking the brush from his hand. He thanked her and got to his feet, slipping over to Principal Figgans' side in that unintentionally stealthy way.

"Excuse me, sirs," he began softly, wincing when all four men jumped. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you. I just overheard you talking about cancelling Glee club, and wanted to make a point. Mr Schuester, if I may?"

"You spend too much time with Kurt, you're beginning to sound like him," the teacher said wryly, before sighing and shrugging. "If you like, go ahead. Just remember that keeping you guys safe is more important than the club."

"I know," Harry nodded. He took a deep breath, looking for the right words. "Honestly, I do. But none of the messages mentioned this person wanting the club to end. If they wanted that, they would have said so. As you say, our safety is more important than a club. Whatever this person has against us has already happened, ending Glee won't appease that. This way we'll keep a sense of normalcy and be together more often. They talked about going after us one at a time, too, so sticking together is important."

The four adults looked at him with raised eyebrows. He tried not to squirm under their gazes. The sergeant looked thoughtful, "Those are good points, actually. You're probably safer together."

"Thank you, Harry, we'll think about it," Mr Schuester patted him on the shoulder, and Harry nodded and walked back to the group. He plopped down next to Kurt, who looked at him curiously. Harry just smiled and nodded to the flowers on Rachel's nails.

"Those are cute. How did you manage that?"

The sergeant interrupted Kurt's in depth explanation and demonstration of the proper way to create nail-polish flowers. He assured the parents that the police would catch the person responsible, and gave the kids a list of things to do to make sure they were safe; always go everywhere with a friend, never be alone outside of their houses, carpool to school with others, report any suspicious behaviour, don't try to be a hero if there is any danger (Remus gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a snort here, and Harry subtly flipped him the bird) let their parents know where they are at all times, and most importantly, don't stress. Kurt shot the sergeant a disdainful look at the last one, muttering to Harry, "Sure, no problem. We'll just do all of that then not worry about the guy threatening to kill us."

Harry snickered as the sergeant answered the questions from the parents. One of the Mr Berry's was demanding a patrol car to loop around their houses. Mrs Puckerman wanted to know if she could get a police officer to stay with Noah and his sister while she was at work. Mrs Pierce asked the police officer where he got his cool hat (much to the embarrassment of Mr Pierce and the dawning comprehension of everyone else. "Oh, it's genetic!" Kurt muttered with wide eyes. "That explains so much.")

The lunch bell was ringing by the time the parents started to leave, promising to pick up their kids after school or be at home when they drove there. To Harry and Kurt's mutual confusion, their respective guardian and father looked very awkward as they walked over to them. The two men couldn't look one another in the eye and Burt's face was bright red. Burt mumbled something that sounded like "sorry" to Harry before dragging Kurt away a few steps, giving a speculative Remus and Harry some privacy. Harry squirmed a little under Remus' surveillance, raising an eyebrow at him.

"What? What happened?" he asked eventually, starting to get nervous. Remus just smiled a little, hesitantly, before putting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. It's just - you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Harry's eyebrows crept towards his hairline at Remus' sincere tone. The guardian continued sheepishly. "I mean, I'm meant to be taking care of you. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me for any reason, you know?"

Harry blinked, "Uh, yes? I don't really know -"

"You what?" Kurt's shriek cut him off, and Harry looked over, alarmed. Burt was looking very embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck, and Kurt's eyes were wide with horror. He glanced over at Harry, going bright red when he saw the other boy staring at him. He grabbed his father's arm and dragged him into the corner, hissing furious words into his ear the whole way. The room shifted back to calm again, and Harry raised an eyebrow at a pink-faced Remus.

"I don't suppose you know what that was about?" Harry asked dryly. Remus just hesitated a moment, then patted him on the shoulder again.

"Just - come right home this afternoon, okay? I want to talk to you," Harry nodded, frowning a little as Remus sheepishly waved goodbye and wandered off. He watched as the thin man slipped out of the room, following Mrs Puckerman and the Evanses. Harry looked over at Kurt, who was still apparently scolding his father for whatever transgression had been done. Harry raised an eyebrow as Burt glanced over at him and froze, going a little pale. Kurt followed his gaze and sighed, waving Harry over with another glare at his father. Harry sidestepped Rachel to get to him, shooting her fathers a warm smile when they waved at him. They were looking kind of sympathetic and encouraging, which was a little weird, but Harry just shrugged it off. It was a weird day. Kurt's face was in his hands when Harry reached them, and Burt was sweating a little. Harry tried to smile.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" his almost smile faltered when Kurt glared up at his father, gesturing to Harry with one stiff hand. Burt cleared his throat and looked Harry in the eye.

"Harry, I am so sorry but I think I just..." the man took a deep breath and Harry leaned forward. "...sort of outed you to your guardian."

_...what?_

"I'm sorry?" Harry managed to stammer, brow furrowed. Kurt sighed angrily and Burt cringed.

"I asked your guardian how long he'd known you were gay for. I didn't realise he didn't know," the father rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ground. "And now Kurt tells me he's not even sure if you _are_gay, I've just seen you doing all this stuff with him, like the makeup and nails and I assumed, you know? But yeah, Remus now thinks you are. I'm really sorry."

"So am I," Kurt added, lips pursed and eyes narrowed at his father. "I had no idea he was going to do this, Harry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Harry rushed to reassure them, feeling his face heat up. _No wonder Rachel's dads were being so nice. They thought I'd just been outed to mine._"That actually explains the conversation I just had. Wow, that's going to be awkward. It won't be a problem, though, I'll just talk to him about it."

"So you're not gay?" Burt asked, raising his eyebrows and glancing down at Harry's shimmery green nails. _Thank you, Kurt. How does he always talk me into this stuff?_Harry shrugged and scratched his head.

"Honestly? I'm just - I have no idea. I've never really thought about it," he looked at his feet, cheeks burning. At Kurt's confused and disbelieving look he tried to explain, words tumbling out of his mouth without his permission. For some reason, he just couldn't let Kurt think that he was stupid or something. "I mean, I know I used it as an excuse for everything but the last two years really kind of stopped my life. And before that I -" _was tricked into a magically binding tournament where I was fighting for survival and saw Voldemort return_ "- was kidnapped with another kid and saw him get killed - " _totally true, sadly_ " - and the year before that I was being stalked - "_or thought I was, by a notorious murderer who turned out to be my godfather_," - and the year before that there was a serial killer who went after the children of aristocrats and old families, so I was at risk and one of my friends nearly died," - _the serial killer was a giant snake and didn't manage to actually kill anyone, but whatever. Also__**, possessed first years**__._ " - and the year before that one of the teachers ended up being psychotic and trying to kill me too," _he also had Voldemort on the back of his head. _" - and I swear to God all of that is true, so I haven't really had the head space to think about whether I like guys or girls or both or whatever. I guess now that things are a little safer I'll start, but right now? I have no idea."

Harry took a deep breath, having said most of that in one go. Kurt and his father were staring at him open mouthed, though luckily the rest of the room seemed oblivious, most of the parents having left and the kids wandering off to lunch in groups. Harry gave them a smile that was honestly closer to a grimace and shrugged again, "I swear to God that's all true. I've lived a kind of hectic life. Hence the changing continents. And the face like a Hallowe'en mask."

"Don't start that again," Kurt said automatically, before letting out a breath. "If it were anyone else I'd say you were lying, but that explains so much about you. That would particularly explain why you aren't bothered by Karofsky and Azimio going after you."

"Oh, yeah. They have nothing on Professor Quirrell."

"Jesus, kid," Burt breathed, still looking shell shocked. His face was pale and he reached over to grip Kurt's shoulder to steady himself. "Why does everything happen to you?"

Harry gave him a wan smile, "I've been asking that for years. I just hope that my bad luck hasn't transferred to the Glee club somehow."

"Don't worry, we have plenty of bad luck on our own," Kurt smiled in that bright way which Harry had come to realise was his "everything-has-gone-to-hell-but-whatever-I'm-still-fabulous" face. "I'm going to hug you now, okay?"

Harry just held out his arms and then slipped his arms around Kurt's waist. Kurt's arms were soothingly heavy and warm around his back, and the boy's slightly elevated heart rate beat against Harry's ear. _Kurt's hugs are the best hugs in America. No question. _Kurt squeezed him once more before pulling away.

"C'mon, I'm starving," Kurt linked his arm through Harry's, giving his dad a reluctant smile. "I guess you need to get back to the garage, too?"

"Should probably," agreed the still pale Burt. "You come straight home today, okay? And let me know if you're taking anyone else home too."

"I will," Kurt assured him, kissing his father on the cheek as he and Harry started for the door. "I'll see you at home, dad. Love you."

"Love you too, buddy. See you around, Harry. Sorry about the whole, mistaking you for gay thing."

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Good bye, Mr Hummel," Harry and Kurt nodded goodbye to Mr Schuester, who was looking particularly stressed. Mercedes was saying goodbye to her parents just outside the choir room, and quickly rushed up to join them.

"Harry, sweetie, are you okay?" she urged, slipping in next to him and taking his other arm. "My parents told me about Kurt's dad telling yours about, you know."

"I'm not gay, it was just a misunderstanding," Harry rolled his eyes and Kurt groaned. "Do all the parents know about that?"

"Apparently they went pretty quiet when Burt asked, then even quieter when your dad got confused," she squeezed his arm. "My mom said that he was all, 'wait, what? Do you know something that I don't? Harry's _gay_?' then started freaking out that you'd told us but hadn't told him. Burt was so embarrassed."

"God dammit, dad," Kurt mumbled. Harry laughed a little.

"It's fine, I'm just glad I now know what Remus wants to talk to me about."

"You know, boo," Mercedes said slowly, slipping her hand into his with their arms still linked. "It would be totally cool with all of us if you were gay. I mean, we love Kurt to pieces, so you know we'd still like you."

"I know, thank you, Mercedes. I'm just not really anything yet," Harry squeezed her hand. "It's a long story, but I'll let you know when I work it out, okay?"

"Cool," she smiled at him, but sent Kurt an unreadable look across him. "So, lunch? I'm thinking tator tots."

"You're always thinking tots. I'm getting a salad."

"Dammit, Kurt, if this is about your so-called pear hips imma smack you one. Your hips are fine, right Harry?"

"Leave me out of this. There are no good answers to that question."

Their strange morning wasn't discussed for the rest of the day other than to decide who was walking who to class. None of them received anymore text messages and none of them noticed anything out of the ordinary. It could almost have been a normal day but for everyone heading straight home after school, rather than to one another's as per usual. Kurt hugged Harry goodbye, which was a little odd, and whispered, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your 'hectic life'," in the smaller boy's ear before he let go. Harry smiled at him, unbelievably grateful for his acceptance and loyalty, and said, "Thank you. Don't be too hard on your dad for talking to Remus. He was probably just excited to have another parent he could talk to about stuff."

Kurt nodded, "I know. I won't be. Good luck for your conversation tonight. Call me if you need anything."

"I will. See you tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 6

(A/N: Early update, because I love you. From now on chapters will come regularly on Friday night/Saturday morning until the story is finished. I can, however, be persuaded to add two a week if I am so inclined...(hint, hint, I'm a review whore, hint))

* * *

Remus was dusting the spotless living room when Harry got home, wiping down the framed portrait of Harry and Sirius lovingly. Harry consciously made as much noise as he could when he came in, but Remus still jumped when he said his name.

"Remus-" Harry reached out and grabbed the man's arm when he jumped, steadying him. "Whoa! Just me. You must have been miles away."

"Yes, I was," Remus laughed breathlessly, holding a hand over his heart. "Merlin, that scared me."

"Sorry. Look, Remus, Kurt told me what his dad said to you and while I appreciate the thought, I'm not gay, so you don't have to do whatever speech you'd prepared for this afternoon," Harry blurted out. Remus blinked.

"Oh. Good," the man started a little. "I mean, not 'good' that you're not gay, I wouldn't care if you were. Just, 'good' that I don't have to give a speech. I hate speeches."

"Me too. I keep having to give them, though. No idea why," Harry flopped onto the couch with a sigh, and Remus gave the frame of the portrait one more loving stroke before he joined him. The man took a deep breath and started talking quickly.

"I don't actually know - exactly how much do you know about sex and sexuality? Because that really does need to be something we can talk about," Harry could feel his face heating up a little as Remus talked, but he managed to respond calmly.

"I know the mechanics of the birds and the bees and stuff. When Ron realised that Aunt Petunia sure as hell wasn't going to do it, he sat me down and gave me the sex talk himself," Harry grinned at the memory of he and Ron, all of 14 years old, stumbling and blushing their way through an explanation of where babies came from. Remus chuckled a little as Harry went on. "And I know that sexuality isn't such a big deal in the Wizarding World, what with the lack of religious reasons, so most people don't ever bother to define themselves as gay or straight or whatever."

"That's right," Remus nodded seriously. "Love is love, Harry. That's something I believe very strongly. It doesn't matter if they're male or female, human or vampire or centaur. If sexuality was as clear cut as muggles would have you believe, Hagrid wouldn't have been born."

"I'm still not sure how that worked... _physically_."

"It's best not to think about the details, but the point is I don't want you to feel like you should be boxing yourself in," Remus slipped an arm around Harry's shoulder and squeezed. "You're still so young. A wizard as powerful as you could live to be 200. You don't have to make any decision yet, if you ever choose to."

"I really haven't thought about it," Harry admitted, looking at his hands. "Seriously, I've had one crush on one girl and my thoughts about her never got past dating. I don't think I'm asexual but-"

"You've been fighting for your life since you were eleven," Remus sighed. "It's totally understandable like some of the normal parts of growing up, like questioning and experimenting, have gotten neglected. That's why we're here; so you can do all the normal stuff you never got a chance to do. So think about it, but don't stress. You think about it, and I'll start knocking before I come into your room."

"Remus!" Harry laughed, rocking forwards to smack a grinning Remus on the arm. "Oh my God, really?"

"Yes, really. We laugh but it's all part of learning and experimenting," Remus chuckled, and Harry groaned and buried his blushing face in his hands. "Really, Harry. Don't ever be embarrassed to talk to me about this stuff. That's what I'm here for. If you have any questions, just sit me down and ask me. Anything at all."

Harry looked at Remus over his shoulder curiously, "Well, I do have a couple of questions, I guess. About sexuality, I mean. Not sex."

Remus waved a hand, "Ask away. I'm all ears."

Harry took a deep breath," Have you ever bothered to identify yourself as gay or straight?"

Remus shrugged, "Sort of. I've always been more attracted to men than to women, but there have been a few women who I've been interested in so I don't identify as gay. If I had to label it I'd go with gay-leaning bisexual, but that's really a muggle classification."

Harry nodded slowly, racking his brains for other people he knew, "I have no idea about anyone else in the Wizarding World, not even Ron and Hermione. It never came up. How about other people I know? Do any of them define themselves specifically?"

Remus let out a breath and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, clearly thinking it over, "I know your parents never did. They fell in love in high school and never really looked at anyone else as far as I know. Sirius was more straight-leaning bisexual. Dumbledore has been openly and singularly gay for years but I think Tonks is exclusively straight. Everyone else was fluid, as far as I know. It really doesn't matter though. They're just words."

"It matters in the muggle world," Harry muttered, shifting in his spot. He leaned against Remus with a sigh. "Kurt's sexuality defines his whole life, not because he makes it but because it's all people see when they look at him. Sure, it's an important part of him but it isn't him."

"No, it isn't," Remus agreed, suddenly hesitant again. He seemed to be about to say something, but seemed to go off on a different track. "I'm glad we had this talk, Harry. You'll come to me if you need anything?"

"Yes, Remus."

"Be it advice, answering a question, condoms...?"

"_Yes_, Remus."

"Doctor's appointment, hand lotion-"

"Remus! Stop!" Harry was shaking with laughter, rocking almost off the couch. A teasing smile danced around Remus' mouth, making him look years younger. "Good grief, just stop! I get it, you're cool and sex is awesome. I get it. _Stop talking._"

Their chuckles died off, and Harry was about to ask if the talk was over when he caught sight of Remus' expression. He was frowning at his hands, and worrying his lip with his teeth. Harry frowned and put a hand on his arm. Remus took a deep breath.

"I should probably tell you something."

Harry looked up at him, gently curious. Remus was staring at the portrait of Sirius on the wall, eyes lost and longing. His voice was low and emotional when he spoke again, "I was going to tell you this when I thought you were gay, since I thought it might help you but maybe you should know anyway. Sirius and I were... together. For a long time."

Harry felt his stomach drop, "What?"

Remus smiled at him weakly, his eyes welling with tears, "We were partners. Lovers. Whatever you want to call it. From the very end of 7th year to when he went to prison. We were just starting to get back on track with things when he..."

"Oh, Remus," Harry breathed, twisting his body so he could pull the man against him. Remus was shaking a little, but was otherwise calm. Harry guessed that he'd dosed himself with Calming Drought before Harry had gotten home. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

"We were fighting when he went to prison, because we were both suspicious of each other," Remus muttered hoarsely, clinging to Harry tightly. "I didn't trust him and he spent 12 years in Azkaban."

"That's in the past. If you were working things out he must have forgiven you," Harry urged him, looking over Remus' shoulder at Sirius' smiling face in the portrait. _Oh, Sirius. Didn't you know what losing you would do to people? Why did you have to die? _"I'm so sorry, Remus. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wasn't sure how you'd react," Remus admitted, pulling out of the hug. He reached to the coffee table for a tissue, wiping his eyes. "You grew up in the muggle world, and you never talk about dating or sex. I wasn't sure if you would approve, what values you'd picked up from the Dursleys."

"My basic view since I was three was that if Uncle Vernon said something was wrong, it was probably fine," Harry shook his head. "It's a solid guideline. He doesn't like gays, blacks, Asians, Jews, wizards, women with ambition... He'd have an apoplexy to see New Directions, actually. Maybe I should invite him to a show? But seriously, I just wish you'd told me sooner."

Remus took a calming breath and Harry squeezed his hand. The man visibly got himself back under control and Harry started talking quietly, soothingly. "It's okay. Why don't you go and take a nice bath or something? Read a book. I'll deal with dinner, I need some thinking time anyway."

Remus eventually nodded, eyes bright but without the hysteria that would indicate he was panicking, "That sounds good. Thank you, Harry."

Harry hugged him again, briefly, "Anytime."

Harry cooked distractedly, half magically and half as a muggle. His brain was whirring with thoughts of Sirius and Remus and home. He wanted to go upstairs and write to Ron and Hermione, ask Hermione if she thought he should bother defining himself to fit in in the muggle world, and thank Ron for making sure he didn't have to go through The Talk with Remus. As he stirred the pot he thought of Kurt, and how horrified he was that his father might have outed Harry._ It must be terrible to not know if your parents would accept you or hate you based on who you loved. Did Kurt go through that? Or did he know that his dad would love him anyway?_ An hour later and his thoughts were just going in circles, Ron and Hermione and Sirius and Remus and _Kurt_...

He set the kitchen table for two and served the pasta on the table. Remus walked in as he set the salad down, smiling at him languidly.

"That bath was just what I needed, I think," he slid into his seat cheerfully, but Harry could see the shadows in his eyes. _He's never really going to get better, is he? _"This smells delicious, Harry."

"I hope so," Harry grinned, the expression feeling tight on his face. _At least I can make him feel better for a little while. _"It has lots of bacon in it, so it should be good enough."

"Perfect. How were your last two classes today? I'd ask if anything exciting happened but I'm not sure anything would top the morning."

Conversation flowed, and neither mentioned the shake in Remus' hands or how Harry hadn't pushed his hair off his face like he usually would. It had been a long, emotionally charged day. Harry couldn't wait to collapse into bed. When he finally dragged himself upstairs he found a message blinking on his phone. It was from Kurt;

"How did the talk go? Are you okay?"

Harry smiled, feeling warmth blossom in his chest. He texted back as quickly as he could (which admittedly wasn't fast; he still wasn't used to it yet.)

"Everything is fine. I explained, he was supportive anyway."

Harry bit his lip, then added:

"Actually, he told me something interesting and kind of sad. Will tell you tomorrow. Sleep well."

He sent it off then walked to his desk. He was thankful he'd done his homework during study period; it gave him a chance to write to Ron and Hermione. With his small, printed handwriting he told them about going into Glee with the glitter still on his face, about his and Kurt's argument about their respective appearances, about the threats, the drama, the misunderstanding and the talk he'd had with Remus. He hadn't heard back from them since the last letter, but that was normal. They were both much busier than him and Owl Post wasn't totally reliable. _Not to mention the time differences and the friggan' ocean separating us. I have to talk Hermione into getting a phone. Muggles have communication down pat._

He was startled out of his musings by a beeping noise. He was already reaching for his wand (holstered against his hip with a Notice-Me-Not charm on it) when he realised it was just his phone. The message from Kurt blinked up at him cheerfully.

"Thank Gucci for that. Looking forward to hearing the gossip. See you tomorrow, Harry Potter."

Harry smiled and returned to his letter. He added another question to Hermione and Ron;

_So the talk with Remus did make me wonder; what do you guys define yourself as? Or do you not bother? It's such a big deal here in the muggle world, it's insane. I have no idea. Remus told me to think about it and explore (and yes, he meant explore like that and _yes_, it was as awkward as hell) but I don't know what to think. Hermione, advice would be much appreciated. Ron, you not making all the obvious jokes would be much appreciated._

_Lots of Love,_  
_Harry_

_PS: And don't tell the twins, either. I shudder to think what their next 'care package' would contain. As it is the last one came with 10,000 sequins for a Glee costume. I gave them to Kurt. He was thrilled. Love you guys!_

Harry was smiling as he showered, scrubbing himself down with gusto. Thinking of Ron and Hermione and hearing from Kurt had cheered him up and left him feeling lighter. The feeling stayed with him as he crawled into bed and fell into a nightmare free sleep. He didn't realise until morning that he hadn't taken his Calming Drought.

The next day was hectic, despite his restful sleep and his remembering to take his potion in the morning. When he pulled into the school Kurt was being cornered next to the dumpsters by a group of jocks, and Harry had had to sprint over to stop them throwing him in. Then Kurt had started crying when Harry had told him what Remus had told him about Sirius, because he'd had to explain who Sirius was and how Harry saw him die in a 'terrorist attack'. He'd then been ambushed by every gleek bar Finn, Mercedes and Kurt over the course of the day asking him why he hadn't told them he was gay. Apparently the parents of New Directions were as bad at keeping secrets as the students. After he'd finally convinced an irate Quinn (whom had gone to great lengths to convince the Cheerios of his heterosexuality), he tried to open his eyes and mind to the possibility of dating and attraction.

_Merlin's fucking beard._

For the first time he found himself noticing just how sexualised everything around him was. The cheerleading skirts were so short they would have been considered public indecency in the Wizarding World (Strangely, so were Rachel's tartan numbers. Harry never noticed how much leg she flashed.) Everywhere he looked there was cleavage and legs and lace and _this is what these girls wear to school? Good lord._

None of it really attracted him; the Wizarding world had apparently changed his standards for modesty, so all the skin just embarrassed him. _This sexuality thing is confusing. Dear Merlin, that girl is almost naked. I can see her underwear! Wait, that's not underwear. Gah!_

"What is with the girls at this school?" he muttered to Kurt on the way to Literature, sticking close to the taller boy's side and glaring at the ceiling. Kurt looked at him curiously.

"They're female?" Kurt guessed, lips quirking into a smile. "What's your problem? You've been pouting all day."

"I am not pouting," Harry corrected, shooting a slushie wielding jock a glare that made him reconsider and aim for Jacob Ben Israel instead. "I am lamenting the amount of skin on display. The girls at this school are shameless. I can tell you for a fact that the girl who sits next to me in Math doesn't wear underwear, and I really didn't want to know that."

"Oh, Prada, I didn't want to know either!" Kurt protested, putting a hand over his chest with a shudder. "And how are you only just noticing this? This school is basically Slutsville and always has been. Puck is the Mayor, by the way."

"Noted. I don't know, I've never noticed before," Harry sighed and sidestepped an attempt by Azimio to trip him and kicking Karofsky's ankle at just the right angle to send him crashing into his friend. "It's just - all this talk about sexuality is making me think. I mean, this is as good a time as any to think about sex, right? Isn't that what high school is for."

"I think so."

"Right. So I've been trying to look at girls but maybe my standards are too old-fashioned because - well, have you seen Rachel's skirt today?"

"No."

"_Neither did I_. I was standing behind her. And Rachel isn't trashy!"

"No, she's a total prude, to be honest," Kurt was giggling a little, smiling a pleased smile. "So, do you think might bat for the home team after all?"

Harry furrowed his brow, "I have no idea what that means."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Do you think you might be gay after all?"

Harry scratched his head and tilted it to the side, "I don't think so. I've been attracted to girls before. It's just - gah! It's so confusing."

Kurt patted his arm soothingly, "It's okay. You don't have to decide right now. Look, I have an idea. Feel like skipping Literature?"

Harry frowned, "Won't we get in trouble?"

"Not if we play our cards right," Kurt was scanning the hallways, grinning when he saw Puck leaning on a locker next to a Cheerio. He dragged Harry over by their linked arms, dismissing the Cheerio with a cheerful, "Come back later, sweetie. He'll still do you." When the girl had giggled and run away to join her friends, Kurt addressed Puck. "How much would it take for you to get our names on the roll in Literature without us being there?"

Puck looked thoughtful and scratched his chin, "$20 and your agreement when I suggest to Mr Schuester that we do an Eminem song later."

"Done. I'll make it $30 if you don't make up an embarrassing story. Something tame, if you please."

"Deal. Where are you going, anyway? Gay sex in the bathroom?"

"Gay sex? No. Bathroom, yes. C'mon, Harry. We have experimenting to do. _Not like that._"

Kurt huffed at Puck's laughter as he dragged Harry away, his pale cheeks tinted pink. Harry tried not to laugh with Puck as Kurt dragged him down the halls to a corridor he hadn't often used. Kurt pulled him into a small boys' bathroom under a flight of stairs that was totally empty, and Kurt quickly wiped down the bench with some paper towels and jumped up to sit on it. He patted the bench next to him, so Harry clambered up next to him. There wasn't an awful lot of benches between the two sinks so it was a tight fit, but Harry was small and Kurt was thin so they managed.

"So! You want to work out what kinds of people you find attractive, but are distracted by the meatmarket that his McKinley High," Kurt chirped, clapping his hands together. At Harry's cautious nod, Kurt's face became devious in a way that reminded Harry of Fred and George Weasley. "As always, I am here to help you."

"I don't trust the look on your face right now."

"You probably shouldn't. So here's what I think we should do; I am going to name a member of Glee-"

"Oh God."

"Hush! And you are going to sit there and think about them physically. Don't worry about the emotional stuff, I know you just think about them as friends - unless there is something you're not telling me?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm not crushing on anyone in Glee."

"Good, okay. So just think about them physically and tell me what you find attractive about them," Kurt smiled brightly, looking totally pleased with his idea. "That way we can narrow down what gets you going and you don't have to look at any more cleavage."

"Thank God for that," Harry sighed and thought it over. _Well, it couldn't hurt_. "Okay, but two things; one, you do not use what I say against people."

"Perish the thought."

"I'm sure. Two, do you mean what I think is attractive about them or what I'm attracted to?"

Kurt blinked slowly, then raised an eyebrow, "The difference being...?"

"You kind find people attractive and not be attracted to them. I mean, you think Mercedes is gorgeous, right?"

"Well, yeah. My girl is smoking."

"Right. But you're not attracted to her."

"No, she's a she."

"Right. So she's attractive but you're -"

"Not attracted, I get it. Okay, how about you think about whether they're attractive first, then if you're attracted to them?"

"Okay. I'm in," Harry cringed as Kurt suddenly leaned over and brushed his hair behind his ears. The taller boy was blushing but determined.

"This will work better if I can see your face to judge your reactions," he informed Harry seriously, who nodded and rubbed a scar self consciously. "Okay, let's start easy: Quinn, hot or not."

Harry rubbed his face thoughtfully, "Well, she's beautiful, obviously."

"Why?"

"Uh, I don't know? Um, she has a pretty face, nice skin... I don't know, what do guys look at when they look at girls?"

"Boobs, mostly."

"Oh. I don't think I've ever looked at her chest. But I'm not really attracted to her anyway. She treats me like a little brother or something," Harry shrugged and Kurt nodded slowly.

"Yeah, Quinn's maternal with everyone smaller than her these days. I don't think she even knows she's doing it," Kurt sighed and Harry cocked his head. Kurt noticed his confusion and started. "Oh, right! You don't know about Baby-gate. I'll tell you later, just don't bring it up with Quinn. Or Puck. Or Finn."

"...Right."

"Anyway, next person: our resident Queen of Easy, Santana."

"She's attractive, but I'm not attracted to her. She's kind of a bitch."

Kurt snorted, "Don't I know it. I swear she's a closet case too. I've seen the way she looks at Brittany. Speaking of, Brittany?"

"Oh God, she's pretty but she thinks like a four-year-old. Not attracted."

"Fair enough. Tina?"

Harry thought about it harder, about her shy smiles and sparkling eyes, "Yes, she's attractive and... maybe? A little bit?"

"Reeaaally," Kurt leaned forward, eyes glinting. Harry groaned.

"Not, like, overwhelmingly. But she's pretty and really sweet, so a little bit. Stop making kissy faces, you're an arsehole."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Kurt giggled to himself, leaning back against the mirror. "So, does Mike have competition?"

"Oh, fuck no!" Harry shook his head frantically, causing his hair to fall down back into his eyes. "No, no, no. I wouldn't go after a taken girl, and I'm not really crushing on her anyway."

"You just want her sexy body."

"Why do I ever listen to you?"

"It just boggles the mind, doesn't it? So, Rachel?"

"She's kinda pretty but also sort of...loud. I mean, I like her but-"

"No, no. I think your taste thus far is impeccable. As impeccable as anyone attracted to girls can be, anyway. Here comes the important one, Merce - hold on, I have a text."

While Kurt fiddled with his phone, Harry leaned back against the mirror with a sigh. _What does being attracted to someone mean, anyway? Wanting to date them? Kiss them? What?_

"Oh my God," Kurt terrified voice broke into Harry's thoughts. The taller boy was scrambling off the bench and grabbing his bag. "No one can find Finn. He didn't go to Spanish and he's not answering his phone. No one else is with him. Everyone is going to the choir room to organise, come on!"

Harry's stomach dropped to his feet. His blood rushed in his ears as he jumped off the bench and followed Kurt out of the door. His mind snapped out of his sudden, shocked fear and into battle mode; even as Kurt seemed near tears, Harry was focused. Harry flung his magical awareness out, finding only the barest trace of danger right at the other side of the school for a tiny moment before it disappeared. They sprinted to the choir room, nearly running into an equally frantic Mike and Artie as they ran (and rolled) out of their classrooms. Within three minutes every gleek was standing in the choir room, trying to call Finn and talking frantically. Tina was explaining tearfully to Mercedes and Sam how she'd noticed first and called Puck, and Artie and the mohawked boy were firing off suggestions as to where he could be. Mr Schuester wasn't there and Rachel and Quinn were arguing about how best to look for him. _We're going to get nowhere like this. We need to organise._Harry took a deep breath and raised his fingers to his lips. He let out a shrill whistle and the other kids shut up, looking at him with terrified faces.

"Guys, listen. Finn could be fine but we have to find him anyway," Harry tried to remember what his instructors had told him about taking charge in a crises, how to make a crowd listen to you. It felt like years since he'd last had to do this, to be the leader, but it came as naturally to him as breathing now - it had been drilled into him enough times. When he was sure he had their attention, he continued calmly. "I suggest that we split into pairs and search the school. The pairs should include at least one person who can defend them if needs be. I suggest Rachel and Puck, Quinn and Mike, Tina and Sam, and Santana and Brittany. Artie, Kurt, Mercedes, go and tell Mr Schuester and the headmaster what's happening."

"What about you?" Kurt asked, eyes bright with worry. Harry waved him off.

"I can take care of myself and I'll work faster on my own. Puck, Rachel, Quinn, Mike, you guys search the top floors. Brittany, Santana, Tina, Sam, lower floors. Kurt, Mercedes, Artie, be ready to call for police. Keep your phones in hand."

"Who died and made you boss?" Santana snarled, a quick glance at her showing that she was trembling from head to foot. Quinn rounded on her instantly.

"There's no time for that bullshit, Lopez. It's a good plan. C'mon, Mike, let's go."

The group ran from the room, determination overriding fear. Kurt shot Harry one more worried look through tear-filled eyes before Mercedes dragged him out the door. Harry took a deep breath and spread his magical awareness. He began to run. Harry headed straight for the front door, trusting his magic to lead him where he needed to be. When he got to the entrance of the school he ran out, pausing in the doorway to scan the area. Everything was more or less still. He shut his eyes and let his magic look for him.

_Something in the car park is bleeding. No immediate danger to self. South-East, 246 metres away. Run.__  
_  
Harry saw the pool of blood before he saw Finn. The boy was lying face down near the dumpster, his shirt soaked through with red. Harry's wand was in hand as he sprinted over scouring the area for danger or muggle witnesses. Finding none, he dropped onto his knees at Finn's side, objectively assessing the damage with a clear mind as he checked Finn's pulse and ran through Healing Charms.

_Three stab wounds, shallow. Minor blood loss given injuries, probably missed vital organs and arteries. Unconscious, lump on head. Brick with blood on it nearby. Most likely scenario: someone hit him with the brick to knock him out then stabbed him while he was down._

Harry ran the Scanning spell he'd learnt very early on the year before, confirming his suspicions.

_Concussion, moderate to severe. Stab wounds not deep enough to damage organs or nerves. Blood loss dangerous. Can't fix head injuries. Can close wounds._

Harry quickly muttered the strongest Healing Charm he knew, sighing with relief when the wounds started healing. If he did it right (and he had become very, very good at Healing charms) there wouldn't even be a scar showing what had happened. He poured his magic into the charm, using more than he'd used in many months. The wounds seemed to zip closed, scars forming and healing in seconds. Harry performed another Scanning spell.

_Moderate to severe concussion. No internal bleeding. Muscles healed back together. Too much blood to be explained by head injury._

Harry muttered a weak Cleaning charm, vanishing the worst of the pools of blood. He fixed the holes in Finn's shirt and dialled Kurt at the same time. When Kurt's frantic voice answered the phone, Harry spoke gently.

"Kurt, I've found him. He's unconscious but alive. We're under the tree that's next to the dumpster you were almost thrown in this morning. I'm going to call an ambulance now so I have to hang up. Can you let everyone know?"

"Yeah, I -yeah. Take care of him."

"I will."

Harry let out a breathe as he dialled 911. _He was hit over the head, but don't mention the stabbing. The story is clear, covered - wait, I'm covered in blood. _Now _it's covered._

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I'm at William McKinley High School, there has been an attack. My friend is unconscious, it looks like someone hit him in the head with a brick..."

An hour later Harry was sitting next to Kurt in the ER, letting the other boy crush his hand in one of his. Burt Hummel was pacing back and forth and Carole Hudson was blankly sipping a cup of coffee. Mercedes and Rachel were sitting opposite Harry and Kurt, the Jewish girl weeping on the other's shoulder. A text from Quinn had let Harry know that the rest of New Directions was still in the choir room. Harry had told Mr Schuester before he left that he would answer any questions the police had later; Kurt wanted him to be at the hospital with him, so that's where he would be. Harry was sitting stiffly in his seat, eyes tracking every movement in the busy ER, noting the nurse dropping her pen, the man with the bloody mouth, the child with the swollen eye-

_Three true exits, East, South East, North. Five windows, big enough to jump through. Blood on the tile, have to avoid, could slip-_

Kurt was texting with Artie, letting him know that there was no information. Blood rushed in Harry's ears.

_Covered my tracks, they won't know about the stab wounds. Had to do it, he would have died, bled out like Kingsley no, no, don't think about that. The chairs are bolted to the wall, can't be used as movable cover. Table is plastic, not heavy enough for decent protection, blood on the floor and in my clothes, no, not in my clothes, that's just a memory-_

The crises was over, and Harry had done all he could. Now, all the panic he'd suppressed was starting to creep into his head. He took a deep breath, trying to sooth himself.

_Don't have a potion, had one this morning but didn't need one last night, not enough in system. Need one now, need to stay calm. Blood on the floor, don't slip, if you slip then Kingsley will have to cover you and he'll bleed out-_

"Finn Hudson?" the doctor called, and Kurt and Burt and Carole and Rachel and Mercedes rushed over and Harry just breathed.

_Blood on the floor and on my clothes, Healing Charm isn't good enough to fix a Reducto to the chest. Kingsley is bleeding out and there's blood on my clothes-_

"He's fine, Harry," Mercedes' voice is relieved and unwelcome, he didn't hear her coming and he can't really see her. All he can see is the blood on the floor and his clothes and pouring from Kingsley's chest - "He's got a concussion but they don't think there's any brain damage and he just needs to stay in for observation - Harry? Are you okay?"

_No._

"Kurt, something is wrong with Harry."

"Oh, Gucci, I totally forgot. He says he doesn't panic until the danger is over. He's probably having a flashback."

"Doctor, can you help him?"

"I can try. Harry - is that his name? - Harry, can you hear me?"

_Yes. Help me. Kingsley is bleeding and there's blood on my clothes and I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't breath-_

"Is he crying?"

"Give him some space."

"He's hyperventilating, would you get a nurse, please?"

"Isn't his guardian coming?"

"I think so."

"I need you kids to step back - Harry, you're safe. Everything is okay. Your friend is just fine and you're safe now."

"Kingsley."

"What?"

"Kingsley's dead."

"Who's Kingsley?"

"I need you kids to step back - Mr Hummel, can you move them away, please?"

"Yeah, come on, you three. Give Harry some space."

"I'm not leaving him."

_Kurt_.

"Kurt."

"I'm here, Harry. Isn't Remus on his way?"

_Kingsley is bleeding out and there's blood on my hands._

"Yes."

"You just have to slow down your breathing until he gets here, Harry. Will he have your medication?"

_Kurt's holding my hands. Safe. Kingsley is bleeding - Safe. Kurt is here and I'm safe._

"Yes."

"That's good. The nurse has brought a paper bag, they want you to breath into it, okay?"

_I trust you._

"That's good. You're doing great, Harry. I'm so sorry, I completely forgot how much this must have reminded you of last year..."

_Kingsley is bleeding out and it's all my fault._

"Hey, no, calm down. You're doing good. Everything is okay, Harry. You found Finn and called the ambulance. He's fine. He's awake and asking for ice cream. The doctor thought he might have brain damage when he couldn't add six to seven then subtract two, but that's normal."

_I'm in the hospital with Kurt. I'm not at St Mungos. Kingsley is dead but his blood isn't on my clothes. Finn is fine. I am safe. Kurt is holding my hands. I am safe. I am -_

"Safe?"

"Yes, Harry. You're safe. I'm right here and everything is okay. Keep breathing like that, you're doing great."

The room came back to Harry. He became aware first of himself, of the tears and drool on his face from hyperventilating, of the tightness of his muscles that were clenched with fear at the unknown enemy, of the burning in his lungs and in his throat and in his eyes. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, Kurt's hand on his arm, warm and comforting, the paper bag in his hands. He started to process what he was seeing, the fluorescent lights of the ER, the doctor kneeling near him, Kurt perched on the seat next to him, Burt Hummel holding Mercedes back and Carole comforting Rachel. He was scared and in pain and embarrassed... but he was back in control of himself.

"Finn's okay?" he asked hoarsely, staring down at the paper bag as he took a deep, controlled breath. Kurt brushed Harry's hair out of his eyes tenderly. Harry leaned into the touch.

"Finn's fine. He has a concussion, but that's all. No signs of brain damage. No other trauma."

"Good," Harry muttered, squeezing his eyes shut against the exhausted tears that were threatening him. "Good."

"The doctor says that two of us can see him now," Burt said gruffly, letting Mercedes rush around him and sit nervously on Harry's other side. "Carole and I will go in now, then you and Rachel can. Okay?"

"Yeah, dad, that's fine," Kurt was rubbing soothing circles on the Harry's arm. "Tell Finn we'll be in when you leave."

"Imma text Tina, let all of them at school know what's happening," Mercedes muttered, pulling her phone out of her pocket. The doctor was leading Burt and Carole to Finn's room, and after a moment a nurse walked over with a box of tissues and a glass of water for Harry. Kurt thanked her quietly as Harry self-consciously put down the paper bag and wiped his mouth with a tissue.

"Sorry," he mumbled through the tissue. "I'm really sorry, I just - you were right, I had a flashback. Fuck, it's been ages since that's happened."

"It's fine, sweetie," Kurt assured him, handing him another tissue for his eyes. "Don't worry about it. I had panic attacks after my mom died whenever I couldn't find my dad. You can't control them."

"I really can't," Harry scrubbed his face roughly, frustrated and angry with himself for breaking down. "Goddamnit, I am such a mess."

"Don't worry about it, really," Kurt slipped an arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him close. Harry leaned into the comforting touch, sighing. Mercedes' voice was hesitant when she spoke.

"Everyone knows he's okay, their parents are taking them home. I can't believe this happened," Mercedes took a shuddering breath. "It ain't just a prank, is it? Someone actually wants to hurt us."

"We shouldn't talk about this now," Kurt responding warningly, tightening his grip around Harry. "Let's just be glad that Finn is okay and be careful."

"I feel a disturbance in the force," Harry managed dryly, thinking on his Star Wars marathon with Sam and Artie. His magic was tingling, Remus' presence nearing. "Like a ball of crazy is about to be upon us."

A split second later Remus was sprinting into the ER and looking around wildly. It looked so much like the day before that Harry grinned a little wryly and leaned away from Kurt. "Over here, Remus."

An instant later he was in the man's arms, attempting to sooth him with meaningless assurances.

"Are you hurt? I shouldn't have let you go to school today. Oh Merlin, is that blood? You're bleeding? Why aren't you with a doctor? Where's a doctor?"

"Remus!" Harry pulled his arms free of Remus' grip and grabbed the man's shoulders. His guardian's eyes were wide and fear-filled. Harry forced himself to smile at him. "It's not my blood, it's Finn Hudson's. He has a concussion. I'm fine, I just had a panic attack a few minutes ago. Look, not even shaking!"

He forced his hands still for the few seconds as Remus peered at them, letting them resume their trembling when Remus shut his eyes and took a deep breath, "Take your medication, Remus. You're scaring the nurses."

Remus laughed his barking laugh, "Sorry, yeah, I - sorry."

"It's fine. Here, use my water. We'll give you some privacy," Harry sighed and slumped in his seat when Remus turned away. He felt so drained it was unbelievable, and the prospect of taking care of Remus on top of that was exhausting. He smiled when he felt a familiar warm hand take his, and opened his eyes a crack to look at Kurt's compassionate face.

"Let's focus on the positives," Kurt urged him, reached across to take Mercedes' hand as well. "Finn is fine. Harry is calm and Remus is taking his pills so he'll be calm too. We're all together, the others are with their families, and the police will catch whoever is behind this."

"The police, fuck. I still have to talk to them," Harry groaned and dropped his head against Kurt's shoulder. "This week just won't end."

"Okay, I'm dosed. What happened?" Remus appeared in front of them, making Harry jump. The teenager sighed and explained; from he and Kurt getting the message that Finn was missing, the collaboration in the choir room, Harry finding Finn and calling the ambulance, and finally the panic attack. Remus didn't speak as Harry gave him the story, finally sighing and saying, "This has not been a good few days for you kids. But Finn is okay?"

"The doctor says it's just a concussion," Kurt assured him, squeezing Harry's hand. "In fact, there are my parents now. That means Rachel and I can go in. Wait, where is Rachel?"

Harry sat bolt upright and scanned the room. The girl was gone.

"Oh no," Mercedes moaned, terrified again. Harry and Kurt jumped to their feet and Remus ran for the nurses' station. Harry took a deep breath and extended his awareness, wincing at the pain and warnings of the normal injured people in the hospital. He sensed that same danger he'd felt earlier outside.

"Maybe she went out for some air?" he suggested, taking off for the door. Kurt was right behind him, with Mercedes trying Rachel's phone. They could see Rachel the moment they got out the door, sitting on a short post near the Ambulance bay. Her head was in her hands and her shoulders were shaking.

"Rachel, come inside!" Kurt called, slowing to a jog. He couldn't sense the impending danger like Harry could. Harry focused on a beat up grey car that was slowing down near Rachel. He ran faster. Rachel had looked up when Kurt called out, her tear-streaked face pale and anguished. The window of the grey car lowered, and Harry lunged. He grabbed Rachel and pulled her out of the way just as a clear liquid was flung from the car. It hit the post harmlessly and the car sped away. Rachel was shrieking and Kurt was sprinting over to join them.

"Did they just throw water at Rachel?" he asked incredulously, letting the now near hysterical girl into his arms. "That's a bit anticlimactic."

"That's not water," Harry grimaced as the smell hit him. "That's gasoline. My guess is that they were going to set her on fire."

Then Rachel was screaming and Kurt looked ready to cry and Harry just shut his eyes. _What the hell is going on?_


	8. Chapter 7

(A/N: Next update! I'm glad people liked and were shocked by the twist. I wanted you guys to be as shocked as the Glee kids, to go from saying, "Oh, look, irritating stalker" to "HOLY #$*$& WHAT IS GOING ON?" and I think that came across nicely. There definitely won't be an update before next Friday/Saturday, because I have hit a little bit of a wall, but it WILL be up by then. Also, a lot of threads that are started in this story will be continued in a probable sequel, simply because I don't have the space in this story to follow them without it feeling cluttered. This story will be about 90,000 words, I think. Enjoy, and don't forget to make my day by reviewing!

PS: Please don't guess the stalker in the comments and ruin it for anyone else. If you want to guess, feel free to PM me! I love PMs and will try to reply to all of them. Check your inboxes!)

Three hours later found Harry slumped in a hard plastic chair in Lima Police Station. Next to him Kurt was reading a copy of Vogue from 2004, waiting for his father to stop arguing with the sergeant. Remus was asleep on Harry's other shoulder, snoring lightly. Both boys had given their police statements already and were now just waiting for Rachel to be done. The girl had had to be sedated after her close call, and had tearfully requested that they both wait for her so she could see that they were okay after she was done. Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying not to jolt Remus awake. His eyes burned and itched, and he kind of felt like he was going to cry. Panic attacks made him emotional for the rest of the day after he had one, and the stress of the attacks and covering his magical tracks and the violence and hate in the acts... he blinked back tears fiercely, pinching the bridge of his nose. _I need a holiday._

"You okay?" Kurt's soft voice broke into his thoughts, a welcome distraction from Harry's building headache. Harry gave him a weak, tired smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he winced at the disbelieving look Kurt shot him, and amended his statement. "Okay, I'm tired and emotional, but after a good night's sleep I'll be fine."

Kurt nodded sympathetically, looking over at his father with a sigh, "I know what you mean. I know that everything went about as well as it could have; Finn will be fine, Rachel's totally okay, the police are looking for the guy... but I seriously just want to cry right now."

"I encourage it," Harry snorted a little. "Trust me, a great deal of crying was the only reason I got through last year without going totally insane. It's good for you."

Kurt's lips quirked into a smile briefly, before the expression faded. The taller boy looked hesitant, biting his lip. Harry raised an eyebrow, asking the question without words. Eventually Kurt managed to blurt out, "Who is Kingsley?"

Harry froze, his eyes widening a little. _Damn. I hadn't realised I'd said any of that out loud. _Kurt rushed to reassure him, trying to smile, "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, or if it will upset you or anything. I just - you said that Kingsley was dead and I just worry, you know? I want to know what I can do. To help."

"No, it's okay," Harry took a deep breath. There were faint flashes in his mind, memories of blood and screaming and fire, but he pushed them away. Kurt was looking at him nervously, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. "I get it. It's just - a lot of people died. Like, a lot. I think everyone in the UK lost at least someone and I was right in the middle of it."

"I don't want you to talk about it if you don't want to," Kurt shook his head, twisting his hands in his lap. "I just - you can talk to me, you know? You've been through so much and I want to help you get through it. You're pretty much my best friend, with Mercedes. Definitely my best guy friend."

Harry smiled, "Thank you. You're my best friend in the States. Ron and Hermione will always be my family but..."

"No, I get it. So... do you want to talk?" Kurt's ever-beautiful eyes were wide and genuine. Harry felt a rush of... _something _in his chest, something powerful and hot that he could feel in his fingers. The boy took a deep breath.

"I... think I do. Kingsley was -" Harry paused, trying to translate what had happened into muggle terms. He dug his fingers into the arms of the chair and squeezed his eyes shut. He clung on to the warm feeling Kurt had left in him, feeling the cold he felt when he thought of the war beginning to dampen it. His voice was flat and fast as he tried to get the words out of his head. "He was a police officer I was friendly with. I was with him when one of the attacks hit a hospital I was visiting. He was taking me and a few other people to safety but... I slipped. In a pool of blood. He stopped to help me and - they shot him. He bled out right there. Because I fell."

_It was my first battle. The very first. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, like they __**always **__told me to do, and I slipped in the blood. He drove between the curse and me; Reducto. I couldn't save him. I killed him._

"Oh, god, Harry, that's not your fault," Kurt breathed, eyes wide and pained. He reached out a soft, elegant hand and grasped Harry's arm, squeezing it gently. "God, it's not your fault you slipped! And in a hospital - Jacobs, no wonder you were scared in the hospital. You should have said something, I never would have made you come with me!"

"I wanted to be there," Harry assured him quietly, looking over at the still sleeping Remus when he heard the man make a noise. He just rolled over in his sleep, off Harry's shoulder and across the chair next to him. Harry rolled his eyes a little. "Honestly, he can sleep anywhere. But it was fine. Hell, that's the first time I've been able to calm down without a ca - my medication since I started getting them. I am getting better."

"Of course you are," Kurt's voice was a little embarrassed. "You're strong. These last few days you've really helped us keep it together. I really - I admire the way you handle yourself."

"Thank you," Harry muttered. Both boys were slightly pink cheeked and avoiding one another's' eyes when Harry started laughing. At Kurt's confused look he managed to gasp out. "Oh, it's just - I was thinking. Do you remember what you were wearing the first time we met?"

Kurt shook his head, quirking an eyebrow when Harry continued to snicker, "You were wearing these tight red jeans with high-heeled leather boots, a black button-up shirt with silver stitching, and a red bow tie. I remember because I thought, 'This is the clothing equivalent of saying Fuck You Bigots, I'll Wear What I Want Because I'm Fabulous,' and I admired the hell out of you for it. I still do. Yeah, I'm good in a crisis but I'm too scared to wear my hair off my face outside of my house and the choir room. You refuse to let anyone tell you what to be or how to dress. It's actually really impressive."

"Thank you," Kurt was smiling, pleased. He sat up a little straighter, looking down at his rumpled clothes with a mournful sigh. "I don't look quite so fabulous right now, sadly."

Harry grinned and reached out to straighten Kurt's cardigan with one hand, "You always look great. I don't think you're capable of being unattractive, you lucky bitch."

"Shut up," Kurt giggled, reaching up to tug Harry's fringe. Harry's cheek almost hurt as he grinned, pulling the scars in what he knew was a vaguely grotesque way. Kurt didn't react, even though Harry knew he could see them, and Harry felt a now familiar rush of happy warmth in his chest. It was just a little rush of giddiness that Harry often felt when he and Kurt were mucking around, teasing and joking with one another or just talking. It was a different feeling to the one he got around Ron and Hermione, but close enough that he figured he was just so happy to have a new, real friend. One who accepted him totally, and was currently poking him in the side to make him laugh, demanding that Harry come shopping with him.

The boys settled down when a pale, tear-streaked Rachel stepped into the waiting room. They barely had time to stand up before they were knocked into one another by her flinging herself into both of their arms' simultaneously.

"Did the doctor give you any sedatives to go?" Kurt asked the once again sobbing girl wryly. She shook her head against his chest and he sighed, shooting Harry an irritated glance over her head. Harry smirked; Kurt might profess to hate the fellow diva, but he'd been the first to agree to wait for her.

"I'd offer you some of mine, but they're prescription and extremely strong," he commented, making Kurt grin. "The first time I took them I was stoned out of my mind for two days. Didn't talk, just sat quietly and stared at my shoes for hours."

"For the love of Prada, give her your pills."

"How can you to be so flippant?" Rachel almost shrieked, not letting go of her grip on them. "I almost died today, and so did Finn!"

"But you didn't, sweetie, and if we don't laugh we'll probably start crying too," Kurt soothed, patting Rachel on the back. "And I don't know about you, but I prefer to do my crying alone in my room, into my pillow, with sad Cindy Lauper songs playing on repeat and a tub of Ben & Jerry's at my side."

This made Rachel giggle a little, her sobs softening into sniffles. Her dads hovered behind her with red rimmed eyes. Kurt managed to pass Rachel back to them with a little manoeuvring, waving good bye to the Berrys cheerfully before his dad walked over to join them.

"We'd better go back to the hospital, Kurt," Burt said gruffly. Harry could see the desk sergeant slide down his chair in relief that the mechanic was no longer grilling him for information, and hid a smile. "Harry, kid, are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll just..." he trailed off, looking back over his shoulder to where Remus was still sleeping. Harry sighed a little, shutting his eyes briefly before shooting the Hummel father and son a tired smile. "Wake him up and get him home. I'll be okay. Will you be at school tomorrow, Kurt?"

"Probably," Kurt looked over at his father when Burt put a hand on his shoulder. The father was looking at Harry with a frown, and his mouth was pinched in the same way Kurt's did when he was distressed.

"Kurt, could you give Harry and me a minute?" the man asked, gesturing for Harry to follow him when Kurt gave a confused agreement. Harry warily followed Burt to just inside the entrance of the station, the man leaning down to speak with him softly.

"Listen, kid, I just wanted to ask you - is everything okay at home?" Harry blinked at him, and Burt rushed to explain himself. "It's just - and don't take this the wrong way, but... your guardian don't seem like he's really got it together."

Harry cringed, looking over at the still sleeping Remus, "Yeah, he - uh. Had a nervous breakdown a little over 18 months ago. He's much better than he was, but all this stress is really getting to him."

"Yeah, I hear that," Burt agreed, nodding. "But you're the kid, you know? And from where I'm standing, it doesn't look like that's how it works for you."

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes again, the burning that had faded returning, "He does okay. It's just been a bad few weeks. When things settle down and all this stalker crap is over he'll be fine."

"And until then you'll be the parent?" Burt asked archly. Harry shrugged and held his gaze easily.

"If I have to be. He got me out of England. That's more than any other guardian of mine has done for me."

Burt shifted, frustrated tension stiffening his shoulders. He gave a short sigh, and caught Harry's eye determinedly, "Just promise me one thing; it gets to heavy over there, and you come and stay with us for a few days. We got a comfortable couch, and I'm sure Remus would rather you let him take care of himself for a while then burned out. Okay?"

Harry paused, touched. He nodded, "Okay. I promise."

"Good," Burt gave Harry a manly pat on the shoulder, leading him back over to Kurt and the still sleeping, now upside down Remus. "You keep that in mind."

"I will," Harry gave Kurt a hug good bye before gently shaking Remus awake. The man started and nearly rolled out of the chair. Harry steadied him before he could fall.

"Harry? What's happening?" Remus slurred, rubbing his face with a back of a hand. Harry thought about the stalker, about Kurt and his father, about Rachel and gasoline and Finn.

"Right now? We're going home," Harry helped the werewolf to his feet gingerly, nodding goodbye to the desk sergeant as they walked. "In general? I have no idea what's going on."

A week later, Harry still didn't know what was going on. It was chaos; there were police patrolling the hallways of McKinley High and circling the houses of the Glee Club. The club members weren't allowed to go anywhere on their own, or with the people on either side of them on the Hit List. Rachel's fathers were keeping her at home, and Finn was still resting. Everyone was tense and scared, sticking together as much as possible. Glee was the only time they could really relax; Rachel and Finn had to be driven in, there were police posted at every doorway, but they were together and singing and that was enough.

Hermione had finally purchased a phone, so Harry kept she and Ron updated every morning before school. They wanted to rush over and help him find the culprit but he convinced them to wait. After all, none of them were particularly well informed about the behaviour of crazy muggle stalkers. Harry did keep an eye out more than the other gleeks, true. He had combat experience and they didn't, so if anyone was going to rush to someone's' defence it would likely be Harry.

He was on the phone to Kurt every night as well, since they weren't meant to leave their houses. Kurt was getting increasingly stressed and worried, but always took the time to make sure that their situation wasn't bringing up too much for Harry. Harry was touched, but failed to mention that his nightmares had gotten so bad that he'd taken to silencing himself at night so his screams didn't wake Remus. For his part, Remus was coping. He did sit Harry down at one stage and tried to convince him to leave the country, but accepted Harry's refusal with good grace. The man spent most of his time researching wards and Alert charms. It was the week of the full moon as well, so he was even more tired and sickly than usual. It was on the evening of the full moon that Harry found himself in the choir room, quietly watching Mercedes braid Tina's hair with a piece of red ribbon. Puck was bowling, using various water bottles for pegs and Artie as the ball. Kurt and Rachel were arguing over who was the best lead in a musical Harry had never heard of. Brittany and Santana had a cute police officer cornered and were asking questions about his 'gun', smirks in place and pinkies linked. It was totally normal, like there wasn't a crazy person attempting and failing to pick them off one by one. Mr Schuester finally called them to some vague semblance of order.

"So, guys, Sectionals is next week!" he grinned as they let out a dramatic, "Ooooh." "I think we've got a great shot at this. Our version of We R Who We R is spectacular, thanks to the choreography of Brittany and Mike."

The group applauded when he paused, Tina wolf whistling when Mike gave a playful bow. Mr Schuester spoke over the dying laughter, "And I think that with a little more polishing, our Just Dance/Girls Just Wanna Have Fun mash up is going to be a show stopper, thank you for the idea, Kurt."

Harry nudged Kurt with an elbow as they all clapped, smiling softly at the pleased but embarrassed smile on Kurt's pink face. The taller boy shot him an excited grin and Harry shot him the thumbs up. He knew how hard Kurt had worked on the arrangement.

"Now, I know you all have been wondering who's going to be singing our traditional ballad solo," the group leaned forward as one, and Harry bit his lip to keep from smirking at the identical looks of hunger and longing on Rachel and Kurt's faces. "The answer is... I have no idea."

The room dissolved into whispers and protests, and Harry raised an eyebrow as the teacher continued, "Honestly, I think all of you could handle a solo right now. That's why I'm going to hold auditions for anyone who wants a shot. Tomorrow. Whoever impresses me the most will get the solo. Any questions?"

Kurt and Rachel's hands were in the air before he'd finished the last word. He smiled indulgently and said, "Kurt?"

Kurt dropped his hand back to his lap, and spoke in a reverent, breathless voice, "So we can choose any song and if we get the solo, that's what we get to sing?"

Mr Schuester nodded, "That's right. As long as it's a ballad and it's appropriate for school, it can be anything."

"How are you going to decide which one is best?" Rachel urged, her voice sharp. Mr Schuester shrugged.

"Whoever blows me away the most on the day. This will be after school, and even if you're not auditioning please come and watch. We'll be in the auditorium. Take this lesson to plan and practice. Have fun with this, guys. It doesn't have to be flawless, just entertaining to watch."

The gleeks fell back into conversation and excited discussion. Rachel was muttering to herself and flicking through her sheet music, and a few people had brought out their iPods.

"Boy, good luck, but I'm going to own this motha," Mercedes teased Kurt, who huffed playfully.

"You wish, princess. I have a thousand amazing ideas and I'm not even going to share them," he stuck out his tongue at her, and she laughed. Kurt turned to Harry with a hopeful smile. "Care to be my sounding board? I'm not sharing anything with the competition."

"Sure," Harry grinned, allowing himself to be pulled over to a more isolated spot. Around the room the other gleeks were spreading out or pairing up around the room. Kurt pulled out his iPhone and started flicking through.

"I'm going to take a wild stab in the dark and say you won't be auditioning for a solo?" Kurt raised an eyebrow at Harry, the corners of his mouth quirking up. Harry spoke dryly.

"You'd be right. I can't believe I'm going to be willingly on stage in a group, let alone on my own," Harry shook his head as Kurt tutted disapprovingly. "I don't like the spotlight!"

"So you keep saying, but sweetie, the spotlight loves you," Kurt grinned at Harry's groan, patting his shoulder. "I know you don't mean to be so attention grabbing, but you are pretty interesting."

"Don't remind me," Harry muttered at his knees, slouching and pouting in his seat. Kurt chuckled and squinted at the screen of his iPhone. "What are you thinking of singing anyway?"

"I've got a couple of ideas," Kurt frowned a little. "I'm not sure what to go with. Whitney Houston is a personal favourite but her songs are more suited to Mercedes' voice then mine. There's also a few that Rachel might do as well, so they're probably out. Maybe a love song? Hmm..."

"I don't even know what a ballad really is, so I'm not going to be much help," Harry admitted, rocking back in his seat. "I'm happy to listen and tell you how awesome you are, though."

"That's why I dragged you over here," Kurt agreed, smirking at Harry's chuckle. His next words were said with the utmost innocence. "So, have you given anymore thought to who in Glee you want to do the most?"

Harry choked on a breath, eventually managing to splutter out a croaky, "What?"

"You remember our conversation last week, surely," Kurt's face was a picture of innocence as he looked at the screen of his iPhone, but Harry could see the twitching in his mouth. "When you said that Santana didn't do it for you but you'd love to jump Tina's gothy bones?"

"I said nothing of the sort, and bite me," Harry rolled his eyes. "I should have known you wouldn't let that go."

"You really should have. So, have you given it any more thought?"

"Honestly? Not really," Harry sighed a little, gazing at the ceiling idly. "I've been too stressed."

"I hear that," Kurt sighed and dropped his phone onto his lap. "I think I'm going to go with I'm Gonna Be Strong. It's in my range and I know it. Wait, I'm not sure if that's really a ballad... maybe... I'll think of something. But we should finish that little experiment! Relax you a little."

"How is revealing my personal thoughts to someone who will use them against me for his own amusement meant to relax me?" Harry raised an eyebrow and smirked playfully. Kurt giggled a little.

"Okay, it'll relax me then. Or, at least, amuse me. Come on, I want to get inside your head a little! Give a guy something to go on."

"Okay, compromise," Harry let the front legs of his chair hit the floor again, leaning towards Kurt conspiratorially. "I answer your stupid embarrassing questions if you answer mine."

Kurt looked wary, leaning back a little with narrowed eyes. He considered it for a moment before slowly extending his hand, "Deal. Shake on it?"

Harry shook his hand and grinned at the nervous look on his face, "Don't worry, as long as you're not mean I won't be either."

"Damn. Okay! I think we were up to Mercedes."

"Yes, we were," Harry let out a long breath, subtly looking at the girl across the room. "She's very pretty, but I don't think I'm really attracted to her. Maybe a little? Not so much as I can be sure."

Kurt looked curious, leaning forward, "Why?"

Harry shrugged helplessly, "I have no idea. Anyway, my question."

"Oh God."

"Relax, I just want to know what the hell Baby-gate was."

"Oh," Kurt breathed a little sigh of relief, then shot a nervous glance around the room. There wasn't anyone close enough to hear them, so he leaned forward conspiratorially, "Okay, here's how it went: Last year, Finn and Quinn were dating and they were, like, THE couple of McKinley High. They weren't having sex because Quinn was President of the Celibacy Club. Then, Quinn got pregnant and told everyone it was Finn's, but a few weeks later Puck told Mercedes that he was the father because he and Quinn HAD had sex and she and Finn hadn't, and he was Finn's best friend. Mercedes told everyone else in Glee club except Finn, for obvious reasons, and Rachel, because she would have told Finn. At the same time, Mrs Schuester was pretending to be pregnant so Mr Schuester wouldn't leave her and she wanted Quinn to give her the baby so she could make like it was hers, but Mr Schuester found out that she wasn't really pregnant and left her so Quinn didn't know what she was going to do. Then Rachel worked out that Puck was the real father, told Finn, he threw a huge hissy fit - probably reasonably - and dumped Quinn and left Glee. But he came back, I've told you our last year's Sectionals story. Quinn moved in with Puck because her parents kicked her out because Finn had told her parents a few weeks before that she was pregnant and they threw her out and she had the baby right after Regionals, Puck named her Beth, and they gave her to Rachel's birth mother. Got that?"

Harry blinked, "Wow."

"Yeah. Baby-gate. Our first, and biggest, scandal. So! Moving on to boys now?"

Harry shrugged, "Sure. Hit me."

"Finn," Kurt's expression was challenging and mischievous. Harry hesitated. He looked over at Finn and tried to see what so many of the girls saw. He didn't.

"You know, I don't even find him that attractive," he shrugged, wincing. At Kurt's shocked expression he rushed to apologise. "I'm sorry, I do like him but I just don't think he's that special looking."

"Really?" Kurt's eyes were wide. He actually looked a little distressed. Harry blushed, biting his lip. "Wow. Maybe you really aren't attracted to men."

Harry shrugged helplessly, "I have no idea. Ask me another one?"

"Don't you want your question?"

"Not right now, I have to think of one."

"Okay. Puck."

Harry looked over to the boy in the opposite corner. He had his guitar on his lap and he was strumming the strings. Harry tried to think about his romantically, and got nothing. Puck was hilarious, but Harry had no wish to date him. The tiny teen stepped back mentally and just thought about the mohawked boy's physical features.

_He has fantastic arms, that's for sure. And his smile is really nice. Sexy. He's so muscular, and his eyes are so dark..._

"Okay, yeah, attracted to men," Harry said definitely, flushing at his own thoughts. As Kurt started laughing at the slightly high-pitched level of his voice, Harry cleared his throat. "Wow, never really thought about it before but Puck is - Puck is _hot_."

"Shame about the personality," Kurt quipped, still giggling. He looked a lot more relaxed now he was sure Harry was interested in men. Harry guessed he wanted someone else to talk to. Harry came to Puck's defence.

"Come on, he's not that bad. A little rough, but he's funny, at least."

Kurt's eyes widened, "Oh, you are not crushing on Puckerman."

"What? No! I just think he's attractive and am attracted to him physically. I don't want to date him."

"Are you sure? Because I'm telling you now, crushing on straight guys is the first step to heartbreak."

"I kinda guessed. Thank you for your concern, but no. No crushes here," Harry pouted as Kurt snickered, knowing his face would be bright red. Kurt grinned slyly.

"Was it the arms that did it? Because jerk or not, he has some damn fine arms."

"The arms, the smile, and the eyes," Harry admitted, looking back at the ceiling to avoid looking at Kurt. "And there's something really sexy about people who are confident in themselves, you know? He probably takes it a bit far, granted."

"Oh, my yes. No, I totally get that. Puck is smoking, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Looks like you, Harry Potter, are bisexual," Kurt looked extraordinarily pleased at this, and Harry smiled a little and shrugged.

"I guess. Do I really have to name it, though? Where I'm from people usually didn't bother. You just - loved who you loved, you know?"

"That's a nice idea in principle, but I have to admit I am thrilled that I'm no longer the only boy who likes boys at this school," Kurt spread his arms in a shrug. "Being the only one of anything sucks."

"True," Harry nodded easily, smiling when Kurt shot him a nervous glance.

"So, are you going to come out, or would you rather we keep this between us?"

Harry blinked, scratching a scar idly, "I don't care? I don't think I really need to make an announcement or a big statement or anything. I don't want to hide it, though."

"Fair enough," Kurt agreed, picking up his iPhone again. "Can I tell Mercedes, though?"

"Tell whoever you want. It really doesn't bother me."

The hour and a half passed in similar chaos, Kurt humming various songs to himself and quizzing Harry on who else he found attractive while the rest of the room sang and talked and goofed off. Harry nearly forgot about the danger they were in until one of the police officers helped him pick up the books he dropped.

_This,_ he concluded as he waved to Remus in the car park, _is a crazy kind of normal._

He was running late to the auditions the next day. He'd had to meet Remus out in the car park after school to get his Calming Drought; he was forgetting it more and more recently, frequently only remembering when his hands started trembling or he felt feverish. They talked for a little while, Remus telling him that he had a letter waiting for him at home and that he would cook dinner. He lost track of time and was nearly 10 minutes late by the time Remus left. Harry was watching the car pull out when he noticed another one idling across the street; a beat up grey car with dark tinted windows. He paused just outside the doorway of the school, contemplating his next move.

_I could cast a Disillusionment charm and try to sneak closer to see who is in the car, but I'd risk them noticing something was wrong. And if I do see them, what if I don't recognise them? I probably won't. I couldn't really apprehend them either, not without risking someone noticing something was up. Best to run inside and find a police officer._

Harry slipped inside the school without looking back, letting his magical awareness warn him of any impending danger. He strode down the halls, finally finding a police officer leaving a boy's bathroom. He jogged up to the man.

"Hey, I'm one of the glee kids. I just saw the car that the person who threw gasoline at Rachel was driving," Harry informed the cop quickly. The cop was instantly on alert and reaching for his radio.

"Where was it, son?" the man urged him, and Harry pointed back the way he came.

"Across the road from the car park. Grey car, lots of dents, dark tinted windows," the police officer nodded and spoke briefly into his radio, calling for assistance to the front of the school.

"Why don't we go to the front entrance and you point it out to me, okay?" the man asked the teenager. Harry nodded and walked at the police officer's side at a brisk walk. A few other police officer were standing at the entrance, presumably having responded to the radio call. Harry pointed out the grey car when directed, and watched curiously through the glass window of the door as the four officers approached it. They stayed behind other cars in the car park as much as possible, and their guns were drawn. Harry's phone went off in his pocket, startling him out of his observations. A glance at the screen let him know that it was Kurt, and he cringed, knowing he'd probably missed the boy's audition.

"Harry, where are you? Are you okay?" Kurt's voice was worried in his ear, and Harry could hear music in the background. "I got off stage and everyone said they hadn't seen you."

"The stalker's car is in the parking lot. I let the police know. I'm just watching to see what happens now," Harry cringed, glancing back out the window. To his surprise, two of the police officers were walking back towards him. "I'm sorry I missed your audition, just hold on a second."

He lowered the phone as they walked in, demanding, "What happened?"

"The car was empty. Are you sure it's the right vehicle?" the policeman holstered his gun as he spoke, and Harry's stomach sank.

"I'm sure," he stated firmly. "And if the car is running, they're probably nearby. I -"

_Puck is next on the list. He's auditioning. He will be alone in the middle of the stage._

"They're inside."

Harry took off at a run towards the auditorium. He raised the phone back to his ear, half shouting at Kurt, "Kurt, where's Puck?"

"He's - on stage. Why?"

"The stalker is inside. Get him off the stage!"

Harry hung up the phone as he rounded a corner, following the heavy beat of whatever Puck was playing to the auditorium doors. The police officers were right behind him, one of them shouting into the radio. Harry flung open the doors of the auditorium only to see part of the lighting rig crash to the ground. He could vaguely hear the girls screaming and the boys' shouts of alarm. He was with Mr Schuester as he ran onto the stage, certain he was going to find Puck mangled and bleeding under the twisted metal. Instead, Puck was lying about six inches behind where it had landed, with Kurt half strewn across him.

"Puck, thank God!" Mr Schuester cried, jumping over the rig and helping the shaking teen to his feet. "Are you hurt? Jesus, that was so close."

"I'm fine," Puck looked dazed, shaking his head and looking at the fallen lighting. The Glee club was rushing onto the stage and surrounding him, Quinn and Santana both throwing their arms around him in relief. "Seriously, it didn't hit me. Hummel came outta nowhere and pushed me out of the way."

Harry looked to Kurt in shock, barely able to see the boy under Mercedes' enormous hug on the ground. The group quieted a little when Mr Schuester and Mercedes helped Kurt to his feet, asking, "How did you know what was about to happen?"

"Harry called me," Kurt winced, rubbing his shoulder painfully. "He said that the stalker was in the building and to get Puck off the stage."

"I meant call out to him, not risk your life like that!" Harry protested, pushing Finn out of the way to get to Kurt's side. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders and looked him up and down, checking him for injuries with a slightly enhanced eye. Kurt shrugged helplessly.

"I tried. He couldn't hear me over the music. I didn't think, I just reacted," he defended himself, shaking his head as he looked at the smashed lighting. "That's going to be expensive."

"I can't believe you managed to tackle me," Puck muttered, putting his arms around a trembling Brittany. "You're, like, tiny. You sure you don't want to join football again?"

"_Very_."

Harry gave into the urge to pull Kurt into a tight hug as the boy dryly answered Puck. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought down bile. _Kurt could have been killed because of me. He could have been killed because I told him to play the hero._

A police officer jogged over to the loud, huddled group, shouting, "Is everyone okay?"

There was a chorus of yeses, and Harry held onto Kurt tighter. _I almost got Kurt killed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Should have been here, should have stopped this._ He buried his face in Kurt's chest, breathing in the now familiar, comforting scent of Kurt's fancy body-wash. He could barely hear the police officer explaining to the group that Harry had seen the stalker's car outside and come to get them, and that they had seen the stalker escape through the window of the greenroom only minutes before. He just focused on Kurt, his loyal, brave, funny, gorgeous friend Kurt, and how he'd nearly lost him. _Jesus, he could have died. He could have died because I wasn't there to save him. _He could feel Kurt rubbing circles on his back to sooth him, and felt a rush of warmth bloom in his chest.

"What we do know," the police officer continued loudly, including the other police officers milling about in his description. "Is that the stalker is definitely a woman."

There were surprised gasps and mutterings around the group, and Harry pulled his head off Kurt's chest to look over at the police officer. The man was nodding.

"We could see that much clearly before she got away. We're looking at a slender Caucasian woman, and possibly blonde or brunette."

"A woman? Seriously? I thought for sure it would be a dude," Puck looked shocked, and there were a few agreeing nods around the room. Harry snorted.

"Women can be every bit as cruel and psychotic as men, trust me," he snarled. His skin was itchy with anxiety and he felt hot and stressed. "The terrorist leader's right hand person was a woman, and she was a sadistic lunatic."

He tightened his grip on Kurt's waist when the other boy shifted, the realised that he was basically clinging to the taller boy and letting go.

"Sorry," he muttered as Mr Schuester drew the officer into a conversation. "I just - you scared the shit out of me."

"Now you know what I went through when you dove for Rachel," Kurt poked Harry in the side with a huff, but smiled when Harry just blinked and furrowed his brow. "Are you feeling okay? Not to panicky or anything?"

"I think my heart is attempting to escape my ribcage, but I'm not going to panic," he sighed. Mercedes butted in, wrapping her arms around Kurt again. _Though I totally would be if I hadn't had a Calming Drought not ten minutes ago._

"Look at you, our little superhero. You just saved Puck's life," she cooed at him, placing a kiss on his cheek and leaving a sparkly lip-gloss mark on his pale skin. "Now never do it again, h'okay? You gave me a damn heart attack."

"Me too," Rachel slipped in next to Harry and pushed herself against Mercedes to hug Kurt. "I literally stopped breathing when I saw you tackle him and the lights fall a second later. I was sure you were both dead. I haven't been so scared since my attack last week."

Harry was pushed out of the way as Tina and Mike tried to join the hug, and slipped out of the group as it turned into a large huddle. Mr Schuester was shaking his head and staring at the broken lighting in dismay.

"I can pay for you, if you like," Harry offered gently, pulling the man out of his reverie. Mr Schuester smiled grimly and shook his head.

"Thank you, but Principal Figgans will probably do it since the cheerleaders use it too. That's not what I'm worried about," the man sighed and rubbed his face. Harry clasped his hands behind his back and looked thoughtful.

"How did she know there would be an audition today?" the boy wondered quietly. Mr Schuester sighed.

"That's what I want to know."

The teacher turned to the clump of teenagers behind them and spoke over the din, "Guys? Call your parents and go home. Be extra careful tonight and we'll try this again in the morning; in the choir room this time. I think it's just Mercedes, Tina and Mike, Santana, and Artie who still need to audition tomorrow, right?"

He nodded with the mumbled agreements from the group, "Puck, Kurt, Harry, you guys are going to need to talk to the police-"

"I'm getting really sick of doing that."

"Sorry, Harry, but you're the only one who really knows what happened today. You three will need to give statements. Everyone else, see you tomorrow. Sectionals is in eight days, guys. We're not going to let this psycho stalker stop us, are we?"

"Hell no!" Puck cheered, and many more enthusiastic agreements followed his. Mr Schuester grinned.

"That's the spirit. Let's do this."

It was an hour before Harry finally got home, so exhausted he could barely move. He'd said goodbye to Kurt in the parking lot with another tight hug; after the day's close call he was actually reluctant to let his friend out of his sight. Harry had made sure to tell Burt exactly what Kurt had done, prompting a glare from Kurt and a horrified, "What?" from the father. _Maybe the lecture he's going to get will encourage him not to risk his neck like that again._

Remus had been quiet for the interview. It was pretty straight forward anyway, since Harry had been with the police officers most of the time and didn't have to cover up any use of magic. The young wizard leaned against the cool car window with his eyes shut and tried not to doze off. He couldn't get the image of Kurt sprawled across Puck out of his head, along with his immediate thought process afterwards; the confusion, the realisation, the fear, the anger...

_He could have died. He nearly __**died**__. Doesn't he know that I... I have no idea where this thought is going. What the hell is up with me? _

Remus softly reminded Harry to check his desk for his letter as the boy clambered out of the car at their house. Harry dragged his feet upstairs, tired to the bone.

_I've only been in the states for what, less than two months? It feels like years. Particularly with Kurt. I feel like I've known him forever._

He wasn't paying much attention when he got to his room. That was why he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw what was on his bed.

"Ron? Hermione?"


	9. Chapter 8

(A/N: Next chapter! Thank you to everyone who didn't guess in reviews. Just a few notes based on reviews: Ron and Hermione are _visiting_, not transferring; I'm pretty sure Baby-gate is from the show; Regarding seme and uke: this has been asked a couple of times, and I couldn't work out which was which. I don't think they really define as either. It's equal, you know? Neither is the more dominant. Next chapter will be same time next week.)

* * *

Harry gaped as his two best friends cried out in joy and launched themselves at him, wrapping the tiny teen up in both of their arms. Hermione was babbling her delight into his hair, "Oh Merlin, Harry, it's so great to see you! And you're looking so much better than the last time I saw you, coming to America was a great idea. How are you? Are you okay?"

Meanwhile, Ron was laughing himself sick, gasping out, "You should have seen your face, mate! You'd have thought you'd seen a dragon egg."

"What are you two doing here?" Harry asked, squeezing Hermione tightly and breathing in the scent of her lilac perfume. Hermione slapped him across the back of the head without letting him go.

"Why are we here, honestly," she fumed quietly, squeezing Harry tighter. Towering above them, Ron snorted.

"Did you really think we wouldn't come if you were getting stalked?" Ron asked wryly, patting Harry on the head patronisingly. Harry glared up at him.

"Just because you've got over a foot on me doesn't mean I can't take you," he deadpanned, making Hermione roll her eyes.

"He's right though, Harry, where else would we be?" Hermione finally let him go, smoothing back his hair and looking at him with a beaming smile. Harry grinned back, her warm, chocolate brown eyes as beautiful and comforting as he remembered.

Neither of them had really changed in the two months since Harry had seen them. Hermione was still slender and slightly taller than him, her frizzy brown hair loose and wild around her shoulders, and she was wearing a light purple cardigan Mrs Weasley had made her for Christmas in fifth year. Ron was still tall and broad, his blue eyes twinkling in his freckled face. Harry couldn't help himself; he pulled them back into another hug.

"I've missed you guys," he mumbled into Hermione's neck. "I mean, even with all the problems I do like it here, but I miss you guys so much."

"We miss you too," Hermione sniffled, before pulling back with a resolute expression. "But we're not only here because we miss you. We're here because you've managed to find trouble, again."

"I don't know how you do it," Ron shook his head, sitting back down on Harry's bed and shifting so his back was against the wall. "You're like a bloody psycho magnet. You can't even blame Voldemort for this one!"

"I know," Harry groaned, allowing Hermione to drag him to the bed, settling on her other side so she was squished between him and Ron. "It's crazy. I'm beginning to feel like - what are you laughing at?"

Hermione tried to stifle her giggles, but let a few out when she gasped, "Oh, it's just - you're beginning to pick up the American accent."

"Am I?" he looked to Ron, who nodded with a grin. "Damn, I hadn't noticed. Try to ignore that. Anyway, why are you guys here? What about your work and your training?"

"I took personal leave. Said it was a family emergency," Ron shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, it is."

"And the Ministry is getting kind of antsy about my work, so I'm taking a week or two off to lull them into a false sense of security," Hermione stuck her chin out defiantly. "Ever since my Vampire Registration Act protest clogged up the Floo Network to the Ministry for three hours they've been getting ready for us. I'm going to hit when they least expect it."

"Fantastic. What else have you been doing?"

"I'm working on an expose of the treatment of House Elves by Pureblood families with Luna for the Quibbler, and I've got an interview with Dobby set up. As far as my social life goes..." she trailed off, shrugging. "What can you do? Choosing to graduate a year early made it even more important that I succeed in this."

"And I spend most of my time running drills and obstacle courses for sadistic bastards calling themselves 'Captain'," Ron quipped. "I don't even really sleep. But you sound like you're becoming a social butterfly in between trying not to die."

"Kind of," Harry laughed. "I'm never alone at school, that's for sure, and I spend time with all the various gleeks outside of school as well."

"But mostly Kurt," Hermione pointed out dryly, shooting Ron a knowing look. Harry blinked.

"Yeah, he's my best friend over here," the boy shrugged, just catching the tail-end of Ron and Hermione's disbelieving glances. "What?"

"Nothing," Hermione assured him, patting his hand. "We were just thinking - you talk about him a lot."

"Yeah, of course I do," Harry grinned, tilting his head. "He's my friend. I'm kind of annoyed at him right now, but we're actually pretty inseparable. He's so-"

"We know," Ron interrupted, ignoring the pointed (and pointy) elbow he got in his side from Hermione as he went on. "Trust us, Harry. We know aaaalllll about him."

"Why are you annoyed at him?" Hermione leaned back against his headboard, twirling her wand in her fingers. "Remus said that there was another attack today, but he didn't give details."

"The stalker - who we know is a she, now - rigged the lighting rig to drop onto Puck when he was auditioning," Harry sat up and turned to face his friends, crossing his legs and leaning forward. "I'd seen the car outside and told the police, then while I was on the phone to Kurt they told me that the car was empty. I realised Puck would be onstage at some point and told Kurt to get him off of it. I got to the auditorium just in time to see it fall."

As always, Ron and Hermione were an excellent audience. They leaned forward with wide eyes as he spoke, silent but for little gasps and noises of understanding or shock. He felt like he was back in first year, telling this same audience about Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone._ I'm almost the same height as I was then, actually._

"Me and Mr Schuester were the first on stage, and I was sure Puck was dead. But he was fine - Kurt had run on stage and tackled him out of the way."

"Wow," Ron looked impressed, clapping a little. "Score one for Kurt."

"No, not score one for Kurt," Harry scowled. "He could have been killed. When I said, 'get him off the stage' I didn't mean 'put your life at risk by attempting a move you might not be able to pull off in time thereby getting yourself killed, you suicidal moron.' He said he tried calling out to Puck, but he couldn't hear him over the music. I nearly had a heart attack when I realised what had happened."

"But they're both okay, right?" Hermione looked concerned. Harry nodded quickly.

"They're fine, just bruised from hitting the ground. That's not the point, though. He put himself at risk. He could have been killed, he nearly was!"

"If he hadn't, that Puck fellow would definitely be dead," Ron pointed out, exchanging another look with Hermione that Harry couldn't interpret. Harry winced, then nodded.

"Very possibly. But by doing it he risked both of them dying."

"So you're angry that he put his life on the line, without a moment's hesitation, in order to save the life of a friend?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. Her voice was totally innocent when she continued. "That doesn't sound like anyone we know at all, does it, Ron?"

"I certainly can't think of anyone, maybe someone sitting on this bed, who does that kind of thing all the time," Ron agreed wryly. Harry scowled and pouted a little as they went on.

"No, none of us would ever do that."

"Ever. Perish the thought."

"Terrible. Just terrible."

"And neither of us have ever been given a heart attack by the heroic but kind of stupid actions of any short, dark haired wizard."

"All right, I get the point," Harry rolled his eyes and continued to pout as Ron and Hermione started muttering examples under their breath. "But that's different. I'm a wizard, and I have crisis training."

"You didn't when you were eleven," Hermione drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them loosely. She looked so much like she did when they were 12 that Harry had to fight away a smile. "It didn't stop you. Face it, Harry. Kurt did exactly what you have done to us dozens of times. And what we've done to you."

"All right, all right, I get it," he flopped onto his back, glaring at the ceiling. "I'm still annoyed. He could have died."

"So we heard," Hermione agreed dryly, smacking Ron (who was still listing examples of Harry's own dangerous heroics under his breath) upside the head. "Cut that out or we'll be here all night."

"That reminds me, how long are you staying?" Harry sat up on his elbows. Ron answered for both of them.

"A week, at least. I have until Sunday after next."

"So do I," Hermione added, smiling sweetly. "Remus says he got us tickets to your Sectionals performance."

Harry frowned, "I don't know whether to be thrilled that you'll see the guys perform, or horrified because you'll see _me_perform."

"Don't try to change the subject, Harry," Hermione scolded, making Harry tilt his head. "Kurt. You talk about him a lot."

"Yeah?" Harry agreed, looking between the serious Hermione and the amused Ron warily. Hermione took a deep breath and continued.

"And you've been giving thought to sexuality and dating recently, since you've never had time before."

"Yes, I told you that, like, yesterday. What's your point?"

Ron seemed to go to say something, but Hermione put a hand on his arm and shook her head, looking at Harry thoughtfully. Ron raised an eyebrow at her, but she just said, "Maybe it's best that he work it out for himself."

"Work _what _out?" Harry demanded as Ron nodded. The smaller wizard shook his head in frustration. "Come on, you can't give me that much of a lead in then not tell me what you're on about."

"Sure we can!" Ron grinned cheerfully. "Here, let us show you; so how about them Cannons, huh?"

"They suck as much as they've always sucked. What are you talking about? Do you guys not like Kurt or something?" Harry scowled, feeling extremely protective of his flamboyant friend. Hermione rushed to reassure him.

"Oh, no, Harry, it's not that. We've never met him, how could we dislike him? It's just - don't worry about it. You'll come to understand it when you're ready to," Hermione elbowed a snickering Ron again, sighing when he just laughed harder. "You're not helping, Ron."

"I know, but I can't stop thinking about the Pants Thing," Ron chuckled, and Harry could hear the capital letters he was using. To Harry's surprised, Hermione let out a giggle too.

"The...Pants Thing?" Harry asked cautiously, making Hermione and Ron laugh harder. Hermione waved a hand and managed to speak through her gasps.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. We'll tell you all about it when you work it out."

"Thank you, guys, more mystery is just what I need in my life right now," Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He smiled reluctantly when he felt Ron's arm sling over his shoulder.

"Speaking of, what can we do to help with your stalker issue?" the tall boy asked him, and he looked up thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure. Because it's a muggle issue we can't really interfere too much without risking exposure, and the last thing we need to do is cause another international incident," Harry smirked wryly and obligingly gave Ron a high-five. "Yeah, yeah, we're special. I remember, trust me. My main concern right now is keeping everyone safe while the police do their jobs."

"I guess things like Alert Charms and Monitoring Charms are out of the question," Hermione mused, tapping a finger against her mouth. "We could ward their houses and the choir room, but that's likely to attract some attention"

"And wards are weaker if the home owner doesn't know about them, right?" Ron frowned. Hermione shrugged.

"That's not really a problem when you've only got muggle aggressors. You could try a Shielding Charm in a piece of jewellery or something," she started sliding off the bed, reaching for a little bag Harry hadn't noticed before. "Hold on, let me get my notebook, we can start writing these down."

"The Shielding Talisman isn't a bad idea. Aren't those super complicated to make, though?" Harry asked as Hermione pulled out a spiral notebook and a pen. She nodded distractedly.

"Yes, they're very tricky. There's no way we could make 12 in the near future. And they only last a few weeks, tops. _And _they only protect against muggle attacks, which of course is all we need here," Hermione jotted her thoughts down. Harry tapped his fingers together, idly watching Ron trying to balance his wand on his nose. "We could try a couple of those, at least. Along with something else."

"How many could we make in a week?" Harry asked, snatching Ron's wand out of the air when it fell. Hermione chewed on her pen.

"Three, at most," she said slowly, deep in thought. "There was a Hit List, right? Can we give them to the next people on the list?"

"And Kurt," Harry said instantly. When Ron and Hermione gave him oddly knowing, amused looks, he stammered. "He was the one who thwarted her last time. She might try to get to him."

"Fair enough," Ron wrestled his wand back from Harry, starting a minor tussle between them. "What about you hire magical bodyguards or something? Nice nails, by the way."

"Thank you, I think plum is my colour. And I don't want to be found, remember?"

They passed the entire night like that, talking and planning and catching up. They fell asleep in a pile on top of his covers a little after 4 am, Harry feeling that warm, protected feeling he always had with Ron and Hermione at his side.

Harry's alarm woke them at 7, prompting Ron to blast it through the door with a shout. Harry dragged himself to the shower as the other two just pulled down the covers of his bed, climbed under them, and went back to sleep. The hot water of the shower woke him up; he'd gotten less than an hour's sleep some nights of his training, so three hours was manageable. He pulled on a green t-shirt Kurt had mentioned he liked, a pair of black jeans, and a grey hoodie. He glanced at himself in the mirror and laughed; he looked like a muggle Slytherin. He shrugged and packed his school bag, giving Ron and Hermione one final, tender look before he slipped out the door. He had a quick breakfast with Remus, giving the man a big hug for surprising him with his friends, then drove off for school. He pulled into the parking lot at the same time as Kurt, managing to get out of his car fast enough to open Kurt's door for him. Kurt gave him a broad smile.

"Thank you, kind sir," he quipped, linking his free arm with Harry's the moment his feet hit the ground. Harry grinned at him.

"Anytime. So, you'll never guess what was waiting for me when I got home yesterday afternoon," the wizard had a bounce in his step and a gleeful look on his face. Kurt raised an eyebrow, speaking wryly.

"I'm guessing is was something better than the lecture waiting for me, thank you Mr Blabbermouth," Harry winced a little, having forgotten telling Burt Hummel about how close Kurt had come to dying.

"Oh, right. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. You deserved a lecture for giving me a heart attack like that," Harry winced when Kurt poked him roughly, pouting. "But yes, it was. Ron and Hermione have come over."

"Oh my God, really? That's great!" Kurt forgot his irritation in favour of squealing. "How long are they staying? Do I get to meet them?"

"Of course you get to meet them, and about 10 days," Harry squeezed the arm linked in his tighter as they approached Kurt's locker. "I'm so excited. We were up until, like, 4 this morning talking."

"I'm surprised you're conscious, I wouldn't be - oh, bite me."

Harry and Kurt paused in front of the taller boy's locker, Harry furious and Kurt exasperated. Written across Kurt's locker in permanent marker were the words, "go fucking die faggot and your boyfriend too." Kurt sighed and actually growled a little, letting go of Harry's arm to put his hands on his hips, "I hate it when they do this. The janitor is a perv, he always looks at me like a creeper when I go to get him."

"I can't believe you've had to get used to this," Harry shook his head in disgust, glaring at any student that looked amused or satisfied by the vandalism. "Why doesn't somebody do something? Mr Schuester or someone?"

"What can he do? Principal Figgans won't expel or suspend a jock, and if he gives them detention they'll just come after me harder," Kurt shrugged and opened his locker, sighing when a piece of paper slipped out of it. "Oh, goody. What's this one?"

He scanned it quickly, not noticing Harry's hands and jaw clenching in rage. He scowled at the paper, his jaw tight, "Well, that's creatively disgusting."

He tore the paper in two, then starting scrunching it into a ball. Harry spoke quietly, dangerously, "What did it say?"

"It was an Internet article about the rise in gay teenagers committing suicide, and someone had kindly listed various methods that I could - and apparently should - use to follow their example," Kurt's voice was flippant, but Harry could see the anger glinting in his eyes. Harry saw red.

"What?" he hissed, snatching the crumpled paper from Kurt and smoothing it out, holding the two torn pieces together against the locker. Sure enough, the title of the article proclaimed, "Gay Teen Suicide on the Rise: Peer Bullying or Authority Apathy to Blame?" Down the side of the article someone had written, "U can use a gun to blo ur brains out a knife to cut ur rists jump off a building drive ur car into a tree or wimp out like a girl and swallow pills like u swallow dick just hurry up and do it. u should die."

"Those fucking bastards," Harry snarled, feeling fury mixing with magic in his veins. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath_. Come on, don't set anything on fire, don't set anyone on fire, just stay calm._ He stared down at the paper in his hands with more than a little horror. "Those fucking _bastards_! Has this happened before?"

"The notes in the locker thing?" Kurt shrugged widely, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "Yes, fairly often. This is the first one to be so creative though."

"Creati-? Fuck, this is..." Harry trailed off, letting out a breath. He took a moment to sooth the rage in his chest, that burning, twisted feeling of wanting to hurt someone... that someone had said something so cruel to Kurt just enraged him, and he could feel his grief on Kurt's behalf like a punch to the stomach. The idea that anyone could want Kurt to kill himself - it went beyond his comprehension. "This is bullshit, Kurt. You did nothing to deserve anything like this."

"I know," Kurt took Harry's hand and squeezed it, shrugging a little with a half-smile. "But it's okay. They don't really bother me anymore."

Harry growled, using Kurt's hand to yank him forward and pull him into a hug. Feeling Kurt against him calmed him down, reassured him somehow. Kurt sighed but happily put his arms around Harry, letting the other boy get it out of his system.

"You are such a cuddle junkie," the taller boy teased, squeezing Harry tighter.

Harry snorted and muttered, "That's what Ron calls me."

"Well, he's right," Kurt chuckled, and Harry felt a tingling happiness spread throughout his body, making him smile involuntarily. He could feel the heat of Kurt through his thick, fuzzy grey sweater, and found himself wondering what it would be like to hug Kurt when he wasn't wearing a dozen layers. The thought made Harry blush and pull back a little, looking up at his friend thoughtfully. Kurt looked down at him, smiling. Their faces were very close; Kurt's breath was shifting Harry's hair. Harry could feel a niggling idea in the back of his head, like his brain and his body were collaborating to try and tell him something but he was just too stupid to get it. He suddenly noticed that Kurt was beginning to blush and shift nervously; Harry had been staring at him for a while. The smaller boy stepped back, looking away quickly.

"Sorry," he stammered, looking at the crumpled paper that was still clenched in his hands. "I didn't mean to - I got lost in thought."

"It's fine, it's all right," Kurt patted his hair down and fixed his already perfect fringe, shifting his weight and avoiding Harry's eyes."Um, if you still want to walk me to class we're going to have to hurry."

"Right, come on," Harry held out his arm stiffly, and Kurt took it. They walked to his class quickly, without talking. Harry's mind was whirling with confusion about his reaction, his distraction. The note was still clenched in his hand, and he glared at it. He waved goodbye to Kurt without really noticing, slipping down the hall to his Legal Studies class. He was nearly there when he saw Mr Schuester walking towards him, shuffling some files in his hand. Harry crumpled the two halves of the note in his hand, his tired brain trying to catch up to itself.

_Kurt hates making a big deal out of the bullying, but he could get really badly hurt. Mr Schuester cares about his kids, he'll do something if I show him the note, but Kurt will be furious and it might make things worse. Merlin, why is this so hard? My head hurts._

"Harry?" the teacher slowed down next to the boy, looking concerned as Harry stood frozen in the middle of the hallway. "Are you okay?"

_Damn it, I'm usually quicker than this._

"Sort of," Harry admitted, looking down at the note in his hands. The teacher saw the movement and blanched, reaching for the paper.

"Is that from the stalker? What does it say?" Mr Schuester sounded stressed and worried, but Harry just pulled the paper away and tried to smile.

"It's not from her, it's - I don't know that I should tell you," Harry frowned down at the note halves, shifting his weight. "I - they're two halves of a note Kurt got. But I don't think he'd want me to show you."

Mr Schuester sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Is it threatening?"

"Not really," Harry looked sheepish. "He'll be furious if I tell you, and he says it'll just make it worse. I want to tell you but - I'm not sure what to do."

The teacher barked a short laugh, a knowing flash of something in his eyes that reminded Harry of Ron and Hermione's shared glances that morning. _Okay, what does everyone know that I don't?_Mr Schuester cleared his throat and said, "I doubt he will stay mad at you for long. I don't think he can stay mad at you. Let me see the note, I'll do whatever I can to protect him."

Harry handed it to the teacher hesitantly, helping the man arrange his files so he could look at it. The teacher's brow furrowed as he began to read, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open when he came to the end, "Oh my God, that's horrible!"

"I know, but Kurt just seemed used to it," Harry worried his lower lip with his teeth, trying not to think too hard on Kurt's resigned, tired expression when he saw the words on his locker, not so much hurt or angry that someone was abusing him as annoyed at having to deal with the janitor. "Someone vandalised his locker too. Wrote crap on it telling him he should die."

"Damn it," Mr Schuester muttered, running a hand through his curly hair. "He had no idea who sent it?"

"He didn't say, but he didn't seem to," Harry shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea. You know, at my old school you would have gotten in a whole mess of trouble for the grammar in that note alone. Kurt says Principal Figgans refused to lay down the law, though."

"He does. He doesn't want to risk his sports teams, they bring in revenue for the school," Mr Schuester slipped the note into a file, shaking his head. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Harry. I'll show Principal Figgans. Maybe the idea that Kurt might kill himself because of the bullying here might spur him into action."

Harry's blood ran cold, "What?"

Mr Schuester's expression went from thoughtful to horrified in a heartbeat, "Oh, I don't think he ever would! No, I know he wouldn't. Kurt one of the strongest kids I know, and he's got a big support network. But Principal Figgans doesn't know that. If I suggest that this might push Kurt over the edge, and that if it did I would make sure the world knew he knew about it-"

"He'll have to do something to cover his arse, I get it," Harry nodded, still feeling a little nauseous. He could tell his face had gone pale at the suggestion of Kurt hurting himself, and he actually felt a little shaky. _Oh, that is so going to give me nightmares, but why do I feel so sick? _Mr Schuester looked at him guiltily, patting the boy on the shoulder.

"I didn't mean to scare you," The teacher said apologetically, squeezing Harry's shoulders. "I had no idea that it was such a trigger for you."

"It's not usually," Harry admitted, ducking his head. He scratched an itching scar with a shaky hand. "I've never - known anyone who did or anything. I just - Kurt means a lot to me, and I'm really tired and already stressed and I can protect him from the stalker, but I can't protect him from himself -"

"Harry, breathe," Mr Schuester commanded as Harry felt little flickers of anxiety flit in and out of his brain, just touches the edges of his perception. "Kurt's fine. He's not going anywhere. Do you need to go to the nurse?"

"I need to lie down," he muttered, feeling his head swim. A thought struck him, making him shut his eyes and groan. "Oh, goddammit, I didn't take my C-medication this morning. OR last night. No wonder I'm so emotional."

"Okay, I don't have a class now so I'll walk you to the nurses office. Do they keep any there?" Mr Schuester asked, supporting Harry with an arm around his shoulder.

"No, but I have some in my bag. I just need to be sitting down, it makes me a little weak for the first few minutes when it's been a while. Also, I need to be lying down now until the world stops spinning," Harry put a shaking hand to his forehead. Sweat slipped against his hands, and he realised that he must have just gone past the two hour mark of withdrawal. Harry suddenly noticed how shaky he was, and thought back to the last 12 hours.

_I was okay with Ron and Hermione because I was already relaxed. I guess now that the physical symptoms are kicking in and I'm stressed because of Kurt getting that note that I'm so out of it. Maybe that was why I was being so weird around him? He made me feel a lot better._

Somehow, though, Harry knew it wasn't that simple.

Mr Schuester lead him carefully into the Nurse's office, sitting Harry down on the bed and fetching him a glass of water before going to wake the nurse up from her desk. Harry took his distraction to slip out a Calming Drought, swallowing it down and taking a gulp of water to cover the motion. He slipped the empty vial into his pocket just before Mr Schuester turned around. The teenager lay back on the uncomfortable cot gratefully, feeling the soothing drought cool his veins. He knew it would only take a minute, but he would have to make it seem like longer to avoid arousing suspicion. He shut his eyes and dozed as Mr Schuester quietly said goodbye and left, the nurse resuming her own nap at her desk. He must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to Kurt's soft hand brushing his hair out of his eyes, the boy's pale, concerned face hovering over him. Harry gave a sleepy smile, feeling giddiness pushing the fuzziness of sleep out of his brain.

"Hi," he mumbled, forcing his eyes to stay open. Kurt gave a warm smile.

"Hi yourself," he leaned back, and Harry realised that Kurt was sitting next to him on the nurse's office bed. Mr Schuester was shaking his head at the still sleeping nurse, and there were people milling in the hallway. Harry tried to sit up, the room spinning a little as he did. Kurt put a hand on his arm and the other on his back, steadying him and pulling him up. Harry blinked the sleep from his eyes.

"Wow, I was more tired than I thought," he muttered, rubbing his face. He looked between Kurt and Mr Schuester. "What time is it?"

"Just the start of third period," there was amusement lacing Kurt's words, and he smiled sympathetically when Harry looked at him in shock. "Yeah, you slept through two classes. Don't worry, though. Mr Schuester came to walk me to Math so I knew where you were and wasn't alone in the halls."

"Thank you," Harry coughed when he heard how husky his voice was. Mr Schuester just sighed.

"It's fine, Harry. Just make sure you remember to take care of yourself. I know everything that's been happening recently is stressful and scary but it can't take over our lives," Mr Schuester leaned against the desk with his arms folded, lecturing in what was probably an unconscious way.

"You do realise that there is a police officer guarding the door, right?" Kurt deadpanned, nodding at the uniformed officer standing just outside the glass door. Mr Schuester cringed as Kurt went on. "And Harry, while you're looking after yourself, can you look after me a little less?"

At Harry's confused look, Mr Schuester explained, "I spoke to Principal Figgans. He wants to have a meeting with Kurt and his father about the bullying problem."

Harry's eyes lit up with understanding, "Oh, right. The note. In my defence, I was pretty out of it. I probably wouldn't have told him without asking you if I'd been a little more myself. Still I think it's the right thing to do, but I'm sorry I went behind your back."

"Your confused state is the only reason I'm talking to you right now," Kurt informed him flatly, poking him in the side. Harry winced, trying to look apologetic. Kurt couldn't help but smile. "You're lucky you're cute."

"Harry, are you feeling up to Glee?" Mr Schuester broke in, smiling when Harry nodded. "Great! Let's get going. It doesn't look good when the teacher is late."

Kurt helped Harry to his feet and linked their arms when they walked out the door. They trailed behind Mr Schuester, who strangely seemed to be trying to give them privacy. Harry shrugged it off as the remains of the paranoia his withdrawal would have caused.

"So, final auditions today," Kurt murmured to him. "Are you sure you don't want to have a shot?"

"Very," Harry confirmed. Kurt laughed at his conviction.

"Oh, come on, you're not even going to think about it?" the taller boy teased, the light in his eyes making Harry feel odd again.

"No," Harry repeated just as quickly, earning a giggle from Kurt.

"Not even if your friends will be there? Mr Schuester, did you know that Harry's best friends flew over from England to watch him perform at Sectionals?" Kurt called. Mr Schuester slowed down, shooting Harry an equally teasing smile.

"No, I didn't know that. Maybe I should give him a solo, then, since they've come so far."

"I hate both of you."

"No you don't."

"I really do."

"Liar."

The two boys bantered back and forth the entire way to the choir room, Mr Schuester chuckling in front of them. The rest of Glee was already in the choir room, those auditioning warming up their voices and those not mucking around. Artie waved Harry over when he saw the other boy, and he and Kurt joined the bespectacled teen. Artie raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Where've you been? You didn't turn up to Legal Studies. I was freaking out," the boy in the wheelchair huffed as Harry and Kurt sat down. Harry's eyes widened, and he stammered.

"Oh shit, sorry! I didn't even think - I hadn't taken my meds and had an anxiety attack and ended up falling asleep in the nurses office-" he babbled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Artie looked a little surprised at his anxiety, and raised a cautious hand.

"It's cool, it's cool. Don't stress about it now. Are you okay?" Tina was looking over Artie's shoulder as he spoke, she and Mike wearing similar expressions of curiosity and concern. Harry sighed.

"I'm fine. Just tired," he shrugged and leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "It hasn't been a fantastic school day thus far."

"Okay, guys!" Mr Schuester called over the room, quieting the gleeks. "We've got five auditions to get through today, and they'll have to be great to beat the ones yesterday."

A playful "Ooooh," went up across the room, the kids auditioning on that day pulling faces at the kids who had auditioned the day before. Mr Schuester was grinning as he continued.

"Yeah, that's right. You had better bring your A-game. Puck, are you sure that you don't want to audition again? You didn't finish yesterday."

"It's cool, Mr Schue," Puck muttered, staring at his feet. Harry noticed that the boy had bags under his eyes and was a little pale; he was willing to bet the boy hadn't been able to sleep the night before. Puck continued quietly, gruffly, and Harry felt compassion welling up in his chest for the fear underpinning the mohawked boy's words. "I don't really want a solo now anyway."

The room was quiet and sad, gleeks exchanging glances and worried frowns. Rachel reached behind to grab Puck's hand, squeezing it gently. He just glared at her, but she didn't seem to take it personally, smiling at him kindly before she turned back around. Mr Schuester sighed, but continued without commenting, "Okay, does anybody want to go first?"

"I'll go, Mr Schue," Mercedes stood up, winking at Kurt when he whispered, "Go 'Cedes!" "I got this."

"Great!" the teacher smiled gratefully, moving to take a seat next to Brittany in the back row. "Whenever you're ready."

So Mercedes rocked out a powerful version of "I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You)" that left Kurt in proud tears and the room clapping wildly. Artie followed her with "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing," and Santana followed him with a surprisingly emotional version of "Don't Explain". Mike's version of "Iris," was kind of weak, but he still was given loud applause and encouragement. Tina went last with a version of Shakira's "The One," that got her a standing ovation. As the now blushing Goth rushed back to her seat next to Mike, Mr Schuester stood up, still clapping.

"This was great, guys, really amazing," he looked over at his kids with such pride that Harry felt a little out of place. "I honestly think we could win with any of the ballads. But I have to pick one and as good as you all were, one did stand out for me as the best."

Harry saw Kurt roll his eyes a little and glance over at a smug looking Rachel. The smaller boy frowned a little and put his hand on Kurt's. Kurt shot him a weak half-smile and shrugged.

Mr Schuester took a deep breath, "Kurt, the solo is yours."

Kurt's eyes flew back to the front. Mercedes squealed and Rachel's mouth dropped open. Harry grinned and started clapping, snapping the room out of its shocked daze and into applause. The gleeks started cheering and whistling as Kurt just stared at Mr Schuester in shock. Even Rachel started smiling grudgingly and joined in.

"Really?" Kurt nearly squeaked, and Harry's heart fluttered in... affection (_that's some odd-feeling affection_) at the awe and hope in Kurt's voice. Mr Schuester nodded and grinned

"Everyone was fantastic, don't get me wrong, and your voice is always good but you really outdid yourself with both the song choice and performance. If you sing that as half as well at Sectionals as you did at the audition yesterday, we've got this in the bag."

The group cheered again, and Mercedes nearly knocked Harry out of his seat in her rush to hug Kurt. Harry felt giddy on his friend's behalf, already planning on telling Ron and Hermione when he got home. He loved listening to Kurt sing. His voice was beautiful and unique, and he put so much of himself into the music that Harry was always touched when he heard him. Looking at him now, face beaming and teary-eyed over Mercedes' shoulder, Harry felt like singing himself. Kurt happiness was just delightful and contagious.

"So we've got less than a week until Sectionals - whoa!" Mr Schuester's mostly serious declaration turned into surprised laughter as Kurt (freshly escaped from Mercedes' clutches) suddenly barrelled up to him and hugged the man around the chest. The gleeks laughed as Mr Schuester patted Kurt on the back and the fabulous teen babbled, "Oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you!" into his chest. The teacher continued when Kurt, now blushing pink but still grinning, rushed back to his seat and almost into Harry's lap in his excitement. "Well, I'm glad that decision has gone down well enough. But Sectionals is one week away, guys. And as awesome as our numbers are, they'll mean nothing without flawless execution. So we're going to have extra rehearsals: before school from seven, after school until six."

"Like, everyday?" Puck asked incredulously. Mr Schuester nodded.

"Unless you have football or cheerleading. We'll also have rehearsals Saturday and Sunday."

"And when we collapse out of exhaustion on stage, I'm sure the judges will be impressed by our technique," Mercedes looked disbelieving. "Come on, Mr Schuester. That's, like, 11 hours a day for over a week."

Kurt was still half draped across Harry as Mercedes, Santana and Quinn argued for fewer rehearsals. His legs were across Harry's lap, providing an oddly comforting weight as the two boys leaned in to whisper to one another.

"Congratulations!" Harry couldn't keep the grin off of his face at Kurt's giddy expression. Kurt was usually pretty composed, except for the odd occasion when it was just the two of them or Mercedes. Seeing him so openly overjoyed made Harry want to hug him tightly and laugh and...he didn't really understand what else it made him feel like doing. Something more intimate. _What's more intimate than hugging? _The wizard pushed the thoughts from his mind in favour of squeezing the knee draped across his fondly. "I'm really sorry I missed your audition now, but at least I'll see it at Sectionals."

"I know, I can't believe it," Kurt sighed happily and dropping his head forward, resting it on Harry's shoulder. "I have _never _had a solo outside of class. _And _I was up against _Rachel _and he still picked me."

"You deserve it," Harry whispered fiercely, eyes bright. "I don't need to have heard your audition, you have the most amazing voice."

Kurt looked up from Harry's shoulder, gazing into the other boy's green eyes through his eyelashes. There was a shy smile dancing around his pink mouth, and Harry's eyes caught there for a moment. Kurt's voice was still low and happy when he whispered, "Thank you."

They listened to the arguments for a few moments, Kurt still sighing happily against his shoulder, Harry contemplating how much he wanted to do something right now that he just couldn't put his finger on. _It's right there, this urge, what is it? I know it. _

"Come and meet Ron and Hermione tonight," Harry said suddenly. Kurt looked up from his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

"I'd like to, Harry, but my dad has kinda got me under house arrest right now," he rolled his eyes. Harry felt strangely like he'd been punched, and persisted.

"Call him. I'll drive you home and make sure you get everywhere okay. I really want you to meet them," he persuaded. Kurt looked up again. His expression was calculating and curious as he considered Harry's earnest expression. Harry got a strange feeling that Kurt understood what was happening in his head better than he did.

"I'll call him at lunch," Kurt eventually agreed, resting his head against Harry's shoulder again. "I can't make any promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you," Harry gave a small, contented sigh, and resumed listening to Santana explain to Mr Schuester in little words that if she didn't get eight hours of sleep a night, she would tear off his face with her manicured nails. Kurt's legs were still draped across his, and their arms were sort of tangled together. Kurt's head rested on his shoulder, and Harry should see the hint of a smile that was still softening his face. It occurred to the wizard that perhaps they should be uncomfortable - _do friends sit this closely?_Kurt's hands were soft under his, and the other boy's weight was soothing rather than oppressive. Finn was looking at them a little strangely but Harry's first urge was to pull Kurt closer, not push him away. It felt...nice.

_I could get used to this, but something is missing._

"Okay, how about this," Mr Schuester compromised. "Before school Tuesday and Thursday, after school Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday all day and Sunday afternoon."

The group protesting the constant rehearsals deliberated in a huddle. Mercedes spoke for them, "You provide the pizza on Saturday and you've got yourself a deal."

"Great, everyone get that?" there were murmurs of agreement around the room. "Awesome. Let's run through We R Who We R a couple of times. Rachel, Finn, to the front."

Kurt climbed off Harry reluctantly, and Harry felt the loss of that warm weight heavily. He didn't understand his own reactions, his own longing. As he found his own place in the back row, he kept his eyes on Kurt near the front. He couldn't wait to introduce the boy to his friends, his family. He wanted them to know him, his brave, defiant, funny, brilliant, gorgeous friend. He wanted them to like him and approve of him so Harry could...what?

_I don't know what the hell is up with me right now. My own thoughts make about as much sense as an Ancient Ruins textbook._

Harry couldn't help but keep his eyes on Kurt as they ran through the number. He watched as Kurt grinned and moved, his body sliding and shaking with the beat. Kurt didn't have the skill or talent in dancing that Mike and Brittany had, but he moved confidently, without shame. He was flexible, Harry noted as Kurt curved his back on what Harry would have thought was an impossible angle, and for some reason the observation made Harry's face heat up. He found himself blushing deeper when Kurt followed the girls' choreography (much to Mr Schuester's frustration) snapping his hips from side to side in a movement that made Harry step the wrong way into Finn, nearly sending them to the floor. Luckily, everyone seemed to take his red face when he apologised for the disruption for embarrassment for messing up the dance, rather than a confusing fixation on Kurt's hips. He kept his eyes on Mr Schuester after that. It was much harder to do than it should have been. He forced himself out of it as Glee ended, linking arms with Kurt as though he hadn't just been distracted by his hips. He spent the rest of the school day at Kurt's side, as usual, trading jokes with Mercedes and taking Artie's teasing with good humour. _Hopefully, none of them will suspect that I've completely lost my mind._

Kurt called his father during lunch, arguing until he was allowed to join Harry for dinner from 5 to 9. Harry couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

_Today has just been confusing. I want to go home._


	10. Chapter 9

(A/N: What's this? And early update? There is a reason! It's Kittah's Disowned Paw 's birthday :D She left a nice review, and since Kurt and Harry weren't going to be getting together in this chapter I thought I had better at least make an effort. I can't do this for every reviewer's birthday, but this was the first one mentioned so HAPPY BIRTHDAY Kittah's Disowned Paw ! I got you an update. XD

Thank you to everyone for reviewing. When I hit 200 I actually called my mother to exclaim.)

* * *

Soon enough, Harry was hugging Kurt goodbye next to his car and waving to Tina and Mike. When he got home Hermione was trying to teach Ron how to work the television. They seemed to be flicking through the channels at high speed as Hermione said, exasperated, "Ron, you PICK a channel and WATCH it. The channel changing isn't the point."

"I don't see why, this is fun! Muggles are ingeni - wait, what was that?"

Harry put his bag down next to the door as Ron stopped on a music channel. A pop-star Harry thought might be Christina Aguilera (_or iss it Britney Spears? They all kind of look the same after a while..._) was grinding with people in a warehouse. He slipped onto the couch next to Hermione, finally getting the girl's attention.

"Harry, you're home!" she pulled him into a quick hug, which he returned. "Sorry we were so out of it this morning, all nighters aren't as easy as I remember. How was school?"

"Bizarre," Harry shook his head. Ron was staring open mouthed at the television as oil was slicked over the pop star's body. "Well, we've lost Ron for about an hour."

Hermione glanced at him and rolled his eyes, "Boys. What was so bizarre about your day?"

Harry took a deep breath, "Well, someone vandalised Kurt's locker and left him a horrible note telling him to kill himself inside it, I forgot my Calming Drought so I was totally out of it and withdrawing, I fell asleep for two classes in the nurses office, worried Artie by not turning up to class, got distracted by Kurt's dancing in Glee for some reason and nearly took Finn out, and invited Kurt for dinner tonight so he can meet you guys. Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy because I keep wanting to do something to Kurt and I have no idea what."

Harry gasped a little at the end, Hermione blinking at him with a raised eyebrow. Ron was still looking at the television open-mouthed as Beyonce shook her hips. Harry smiled at Hermione brightly, "So how was your day?"

"Not as interesting as yours. We mostly slept and unpacked in our guestrooms," Hermione shook her head with a sigh. "Your life will never be normal, Harry, but at least it will always be entertaining."

"_This _is entertaining," Ron informed them dreamily as the scantily clad women writhed on screen. Harry's mouth quirked into a smile as Hermione made a disgusted noise.

"Kurt was moving a bit like that during Glee," Harry noted, observing the music video far more objectively than he'd observed Kurt. "It was really... something."

"I bet," Hermione drawled. She cut Harry off before he could ask what she meant. "So you said that he's coming for dinner? That's nice. What are you going to cook?"

"I'm not sure," Harry frowned. "I hadn't thought about it. He loves Chinese food, so maybe a stir fry? What do you feel like?"

"We'll eat anything you cook, Harry, you know that," Hermione assured him.

"Especially me," Ron added, still in his own little world.

"Especially Ron," Hermione agreed. "I think you're lucky he didn't eat the dinnerware when you cooked that lasagne over the summer. What time is Kurt getting here?"

"At about 5," Harry told her, looking at his watch. "It's only 3.30, and we won't eat until later, so I've got plenty of time."

"Not so much," Hermione disagreed. There was a cunning glint in her eye that Harry didn't trust, and he shifted as she considered him. "You need to go grocery shopping, shower, change clothes, prepare what you can... you'd better get moving."

"Wait, what's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" he asked, frowning down at his hoody and jeans. Ron answered flatly, making Harry grin.

"You look like a Slytherin."

"You would look like you hadn't put any effort in," Hermione insisted. "You don't want Kurt to think that you didn't, do you?"

"No," Harry responded automatically. "But -"

"Go to the store," Hermione insisted, jumping to her feet and dragging Harry up. "I'll lay out some clothes for you and make sure anything magical is hidden. We'll just leave Ron here to his drooling."

Harry found himself being shepherded into the kitchen, but not before he noticed Ron and Hermione share a devious wink.

_It's like there's an enormous joke going on that everyone is in on but me._

An hour and a half later found a much primped Harry cutting vegetables in the kitchen. Hermione had transfigured an emerald green button up shirt for him from a t-shirt, having found that he didn't own any of his own ("Seriously, Harry? Your entire wardrobe consists of 10 t-shirts, three hoodies, and four pairs of jeans." "...and?") and a pair of black jeans that she had shrunk ("So they actually fit you.""They fit fine before!"). She'd also insisted on brushing his hair back off his face, claiming that since he'd assured them that Kurt wasn't at all weird about the scarring he shouldn't go around looking like cousin It ("Who the hell is cousin It?" "The Addams Family? The Hair monster? You need to watch more TV.") . He felt odd and exposed in the tight clothes, no veil of hair to protect him, but the only ones who would be there were Remus, Kurt, Ron, and Hermione. He trusted them more than anyone.

When the doorbell rang he dropped the knife and took off for the front door without thinking. He automatically checked that it was Kurt through the peephole, opening the door wide when he was sure.

"That was fast," Kurt noted, still half turned away from the door. Harry's face heat up at the teasing tone, and he ducked his head when Kurt giggled. The taller boy had also changed since school, now in a silver-blue suit with a grey bowtie. He was assessing Harry's outfit with similar curiosity. "Wow, I didn't think you owned anything other than t-shirt and hoodies."

"I don't," Harry admitted, waving Kurt in. "Hermione gave me this as a present when she came over. They're in the living room, come on. I'll introduce you."

Harry automatically put his hand on Kurt's back as he lead him to the living room, the way he sometimes did with Hermione. Hermione and Ron were sitting next to one another on the bigger couch, attempting to wrestle the remote control from one another. Kurt and Harry stopped in the doorway, the taller boy looking to the smaller curiously. Harry just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Ron, you've been watching those dancing slurries for hours. Kurt will be here any minute!"

"Oh come on! Did you not see the jiggling? How am I meant to turn it off?"

"I saw the jiggling and it was _disturbing_. It will still be there when you turn it on tomorrow, Ronald Bilius Weasley, so stop being a pervert and give me the damn remote."

Harry muttered an embarrassed 'excuse me' into Kurt's ear before sneaking up behind the pair on the couch, reaching over to snatch the remote out of Ron's hand, turning the TV off with a definitive click. Ron made a protesting noise and Hermione said, "Thank you. Honestly, this idiot was so busy looking at the breasts that he didn't even change."

"Guys," Harry interrupted Ron's rebuttal, gesturing with a hand to where Kurt was standing in the doorway. "This is Kurt. Kurt, these two children are my friends Ron and Hermione."

Both Ron and Hermione's eyes widened when they saw Kurt, who gave a shy little wave with his fingers. Hermione jumped to her feet, straightening her pale blue dress and white cardigan and rushing to Kurt's side, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Hi, Kurt, so nice to meet you," she enthused, catching his hand in both of hers. "We've heard so much about you."

"So very, very much," Ron agreed, joining Hermione. Kurt shook the boy's hand a little more hesitantly, looking a little intimidated by his height, but Ron gave him an easy smile that helped relax him. Harry felt a grin spread across his face as Hermione complimented Kurt's suit and telling him about Harry's lack of fashion sense, starting a conversation about how hopeless most boys were at dressing themselves. Harry guided the group back to the couches, settling on the smaller couch next to Kurt as Hermione and Ron took their places opposite them. Conversation flowed politely and easily; Hermione kept it going with polite questions, Kurt kept it light hearted with his many anecdotes, and Ron kept it casual with his terrible, terrible jokes. Harry just sat blissfully curled up next to Kurt, listening to his favourite people in the whole world get along. He added his own wry commentary to the conversation sometimes, often getting him a fond look from Hermione and an unreadable one from Kurt. Nearly an hour passed in pleasant conversation before Harry rose to finish dinner. He felt as relaxed as he had in years as he finished chopping the last few vegetables, throwing them in the wok as he went. Remus was outside trimming the hedges in the dark, so he leaned out the window and called the man in to help him clean as the stir fry fried. It was done in 20 minutes, and Harry walked towards the living room to let them know, unconsciously silent as always. As he approached the room he caught the tail end of Hermione's sentence,

"...give it time. You won't have to wait much longer."

"Yeah," he heard Ron agree. "He should work it out soon enough. And we'll let him know we approve, so now you've just got to-"

"Harry!" Hermione sat up. Kurt was now sitting in between her and Ron for some reason, his face pink and pleased. Harry raised an eyebrow as Hermione and Ron covered their guilty  
expressions with unconvincing casual ones. Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder in an exaggerated gesture. "Oh, is dinner ready already? That didn't take long."

"Yeah, Remus is just putting it on the table," Harry agreed as the three teenagers stood from the couch. He narrowed his eyes at them suspiciously as Kurt tried to suppress a grin and Hermione and Ron exchanged reluctantly amused looks. "Is everything all right in here?"

"Oh yes," Kurt agreed, sliding past Harry in the door, pausing to press a long-fingered hand against Harry's chest affectionately. "They totally weren't telling me embarrassing stories about you trying to ask girls to the dance when you were 14."

Suspicion gave way to mortification and Harry glared frantically at the now giggling Ron and Hermione. He fixed Ron with a particularly sour look as he walked backwards down the hall to the kitchen at Kurt's side, "Like you can talk, Weasley. He - " Harry informed Kurt. " - walked up to the prettiest, most popular senior girl at another school, basically screamed, "do you want to go to the ball with me?" then ran away before she could react properly."

Kurt cracked up, trying to stifle his laughter in his palm. Ron grinned wryly as Harry looked triumphant and Hermione hid her chuckle in a cough, "I was not the smoothest bloke at 14. Or 15. Or 16. I'll let you know when I'm the smoothest bloke."

"We won't hold our breath," Hermione commented as they entered the kitchen. Remus was putting down the last of the plates onto the red tablecloth, the gleaming silver cutlery a testimony to his recent compulsive cleaning. Harry automatically pulled out a chair for Kurt as Ron did the same for Hermione, and Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"You realise I'm not a girl, right?" the well-dressed teen asked Harry archly. Harry paused with a confused frown, halfway into his seat.

"Uh, yes," he flopped the rest of the way down into his seat, tilting his head quizzically at Kurt's strange declaration. "I knew that pretty much as soon as I saw you and haven't really thought about it since. Why?"

Kurt shrugged, raising his eyebrows, "You open doors for me, you escort me places, and you just pulled out my chair for me. Just checking that you realise you're dealing with a man here."

Harry thought about it for a few seconds, frowning thoughtfully, "It's not a matter of thinking you're a girl, I know you're a boy. I open doors for everyone, it's just habit, and I'm pretty sure you started the escorting thing. The chair was just automatic too. I can stop if it offends you, it's not that I think of you as incapable or something, it's all just a big reflex."

Kurt's expression relaxed as he talked, and he shook his head, "No, no offence taken for it as long as there's no misunderstanding. On to dinner! This looks amazing."

"Thank you. You like Chinese, right?"

"Oh Gucci, yes, and we never have it at home. This is perfect."

"How's your father, Kurt?" Remus asked as he carefully extracted a piece of bok choi from the dish, removing the rice from it with his knife. Kurt politely didn't mention his compulsive actions.

"He's well, thank you. Still pushing himself way too hard for someone who just had a heart attack, but he threatened to take away my shoe budget if I hid his car keys again."

"Gotta love having workaholic family," Ron looked at Hermione slyly, who huffed. "Granger here was up for three days straight about a month ago, staging a protest about-"

"Women's rights in the middle east," Hermione interrupted. Harry smiled a little - if he recalled correctly, that particular protest had actually been about Merfolk being forced to vacate their lakes for the convenience of wizards. Hermione went on with a blush. "The only reason I didn't pass out was that I was drinking my body weight in coffee and sugary drinks every day. My parents were horrified about what it was doing to my teeth."

"Yeah, you said earlier that you were a political rights activist," Kurt called, pausing to slip a piece of beef into his mouth. "This is amazing, by the way, Harry - if you're an activist, that can't pay anything, surely?"

"No, no, it's all volunteer," Hermione confirmed. She shot Harry a questioning look, and he nodded. "Harry funds it, actually."

Kurt raised his eyebrows, and Harry blushed a little as the other boy's eyes lit up, "Oh, right. I always forget that you're rich."

"_Good_."

"I like your suit, Kurt," Remus commented with a smile. His expression was very fond and thoughtful, like he was remembering a pleasant memory. "My former partner, Sirius, owned a suit just like that. He'd wear it anytime he needed formal wear, even a funeral, once."

"That sounds like Sirius," Ron agreed with a nervous laugh, exchanging a glance with Hermione. Kurt didn't comment outside of a quiet "thank you." Remus stared blankly at the wall behind Harry and Kurt for a few minutes, lost in memories. Kurt shot Harry a worried glance, to which Harry gave a pained smile.

"You guys should be looking forward to our Sectionals performance," Harry filled the silence. He continued as the other teenagers looked relieved. "We're going to own it."

"We totally are," Kurt agreed, grinning widely. "I hate to blow my own horn - okay, that's a lie, I'm about as modest as I am subtle - but the Girls Just Wanna/Just Dance mash up? Total genius."

"It works a lot better than you would think," Harry agreed. Hermione gave a little giggle.

"And Harry is dancing to these? Our Harry?" she grinned when Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "No offence, Harry, but you've never been the most graceful guy."

Off the battlefield went unsaid, but implied. Harry quirked a smile as Kurt came to his defence.

"He's a little stiff, but he's not bad," the flamboyant boy rolled his eyes. "Not like Finn. Last week Finn managed to trip during a side step, sending poor Brittany flying and knocking Puck onto Artie's lap."

"It was pretty funny," Harry added.

Conversation flowed from then, even thought Remus just sat quietly and stared at the wall. Kurt told Ron and Hermione increasingly outrageous stories about various Glee dramas, like the time he and Mercedes had joined the Cheerios and instantly became popular, but eventually gave it up to concentrate on Glee, or the time when they'd had to use wheelchairs for a week and Rachel had rolled off the stage during rehearsal. For their part, Ron and Hermione focused on stories from summers to avoid talking about school. They took great delight in describing how Harry had once been mistaken for a 10-year-old and prohibited from entering an M15 movie... on his 17th birthday. Harry countered with a detailed description of Hermione and Ron being mistaken for a couple by a group of old women who were too deaf to be corrected and had spent 20 minutes telling them what a cute couple they made and encouraging Ron to 'make an honest woman' out of Hermione. He'd just gotten to the part where one little old lady had smacked Ron with her purse for shouting that he wasn't going to marry Hermione when Remus rejoined them.

"I remember that!" he smiled at the now-relieved kids. "Hermione just pretended to cry and all the old ladies took turn comforting her and berating Ron."

"Oh, that's cold, Hermione," Kurt quipped, dropping her a wink. "I approve."

"I don't," Ron pouted. "They had heavy handbags!"

Hours past, and they ate and talked and laughed. Before Harry knew it, Burt Hummel was knocking on the door to pick Kurt up. The four teenagers were sitting up in Harry's room, rolling around on his bed laughing at Ron's impressions of teachers at Hogwarts and telling (muggle versions of) stories about their classes with them. Harry was just describing Gilderoy Lockhart giving himself a 'concussion' while 'trying to demonstrate a self-defence method' when Remus opened the door, Burt Hummel trailing behind him.

"Dad! Is it nine already?" Kurt scrambled to get his phone out of his pocket, and Burt gave a little grin.

"It's half past, actually. Got caught up watching the game," Burt nodded hello to Ron and Hermione. "You must be Harry's friends from England. I'm Burt Hummel, Kurt's dad."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir, I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione jumped to her feet to shake his hand, beaming. Burt looked a little bemused by her enthusiasm, but smiled knowingly when she went on to say, "Harry's basically family, sir, and now that he and Kurt are friends you may be seeing rather a lot of us."

"When we're in the country," Ron amended, taking his place at her side. "Ron Weasley, sir, it's a pleasure."

"Call me Burt, kids," the man grinned. Harry smiled at Kurt as the boy slipped his fancy dress shoes back on and stretched.

"It was lovely meeting both of you," Kurt told Ron and Hermione sincerely,  
Harry could see Kurt's surprised smile when both Ron and Hermione pulled him into friendly hugs. The boy still wasn't used to people being comfortable touching him, so Harry knew that having two people he had just met accept him off the bat without question would be amazing. Merlin knew it had been for Harry.

"I'll walk you out," Harry said to Kurt, bowing ridiculously and holding out his arm for Kurt to take. Kurt giggled, and the two boys followed Burt and Remus down the hall.

"I'm guessing you kids had fun, then?" Burt asked wryly as they passed the living room. Kurt's smile was secretive.

"I don't know about Harry, but I had an amazing evening," Kurt practically purred, squeezing Harry's arm. Harry raised an eyebrow at the guarded joy and satisfaction buried under Kurt's smirk.

"I had a nice time," Harry agreed cautiously as they opened the door. "I'm glad you three got along so well."

"I like them," Kurt smiled at Remus as the man opened the front door for the father and son. As Burt nodded his goodbyes and stepped onto the porch, Kurt hesitated in the doorway. He turned to Harry and hugged him, which Harry returned automatically. Harry's hug-content sigh was cut short when he felt a heat against his cheek. Kurt pressed a short, chaste kiss there, no more than a friendly peck, but for some reason heat spread like wildfire from that spot through Harry's veins. Kurt turned and ran down the porch steps to their car before Harry could respond. As the Hummel car reversed down the driveway and down the street, Harry turned to Remus. The man was trying and failing to hide a smile behind his hand.

"What?" Harry asked, tilting his head. Remus just shook his and let himself grin, ushering Harry inside.

"Never mind, kiddo. You'd better go back upstairs. You three should try to get some more sleep tonight."

"Hear, hear," Harry yawned and made his way back to his bedroom. Ron and Hermione were sitting on his bed and they stopped talking when he walked in, sharing one last meaningful glance before turning to him with innocent smiles. Harry sighed and shut the door.

"I know that something is going one," he informed them, folding his arms and glaring down at them. "And I know that Kurt, Remus, and possibly most of the glee club is in on it too. You've all got this, 'we know something idiot Potter hasn't worked out yet' expressing down pat."

Hermione giggled and flopped onto her stomach, kicking her legs up behind her, "We're really not doing it to torment you, Harry. It's just something you should really work out for yourself. And while we haven't been talking to anyone from your glee club..."

"...they've probably worked it out too," Ron admitted, sharing a grin with Hermione. "I honestly don't know why you're being so dim about it, mate. Even I'm a step ahead of you."

"Well, you know I must be being slow if that's the case," Harry snarked, flopping onto his bed with a pout. "I don't have any idea what's going on outside of the fact that I'm going mental and no one is interested in cluing me in."

"How are you going mental?" Hermione asked, eyes wide and innocent, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. Harry was suspicious.

"Well," he paused, trying to think of the words. "I keep getting distracted by stupid things, mostly things about Kurt."

"Uh huh," Ron nodded, leaning forward. Harry frowned a little, pulling back.

"I, uh. React weirdly when he does totally normal things, and don't react when we do things that aren't normal. Like, he kissed me on the cheek goodbye and it felt like... I don't even know what. Just significant, somehow. And a lot nicer than you would have thought," Ron and Hermione were nodding in unison, looking unsurprised and encouraging. Harry took a deep breath and continued, words pouring out of him, grateful to be out after weeks of being forced to the back of his mind, "But on the other side of the scale I'll sit with him basically on my lap and it just feels normal, you know? Right. And we link arms and practically hold hands and it feels great but I don't know why and sometimes I just get the urge to do something but I don't know what but it's every important-"

"Breathe, Harry," Hermione encouraged, reached out to pat Harry's hand. As he caught his breath, she sighed a little, smiling. "And you really have no idea what this could mean?"

Harry shook his head, flopping onto his back on his bed, "I know I should, it's right on the tip of my tongue, but I don't know. It's just a really strong feeling that I can't name. It's like affection, only not."

"Yes, yes it is," Ron agreed, ducking the pillow Harry threw at his face with a frustrated cry of, "Just tell me already!" "You're being a bit slow, mate."

"Which is probably understandable given the couple of years you've had. Your brain has been so busy with battle plans that you've missed out on normal social interaction," Hermione comforted him as she lectured, removing the pillow he was trying to smother himself with from his hands. "Stop that. Just give yourself some time. If you haven't worked it out by the time we leave, we'll let you know, okay?"

"Okay," Harry huffed, but smiled when he felt Hermione run her fingers through his hair. He murmured happily. "Kurt did that earlier today. It was... nice."

"I'm sure," Hermione agreed, using her other hand to crack Ron across the back of the skull. "Shut up, Weasley. Tell you what, Harry. You want a hint?"

Harry opened his eyes and sat up against his elbows, "Yes. I want to know."

"I'm not going to tell you, but I will give you some advice," Hermione sat up cross legged on the bed, and spoke in her best wise-know-it-all voice. "Next time you get the urge to do something with Kurt, even though you don't know what it is? Give in."

She didn't elaborate, and Harry looked between her and Ron's familiar faces for a moment, then sighed, "Fine. I will. No idea what will happen though. Shall we start making those Shielding Talismans now? We need to get one to Quinn ASAP."

"And Kurt," Ron added, bouncing off the bed to grab the equipment Hermione had scrounged up.

"And Kurt," Harry amended. "Do you think we can get one of these done tonight?"

"No way," Hermione shook her head. "They will take a few days, and we still need some equipment. Namely, something of Quinn's, like a hair or something."

"Well, that's not going to be creepy to get. Okay, walk me through it. I'm dead tired, but we might as well start tonight."

The next day was Friday, and it passed quickly and without incident. There was Glee rehearsals and schoolwork to do during the day and at night he, Ron and Hermione sat spread across his bed, weaving the magic into the beaded strings of the talisman they were making until the early hours of the morning. Harry had managed to get a hair off of Quinn's hairbrush when he and Kurt had run into her in the girls' bathroom, the two boys helping Rachel wash slushie out of her hair. They enclosed the hair into a pale pink glass bead and wove the charm over the weekend, finally sealing it on Sunday night. Hermione and Ron had worked while Harry was at rehearsals. They weren't able to close the final seal, not having enough power on their own, so when Harry got home he joined them. The bead glowed and hung suspended in the middle of them, finally falling into Hermione's waiting hand. The girl peered at it with a magical magnifying glass, finally nodding in satisfaction.

"It's done."

The three magical teens then promptly passed out on top of one another and didn't wake up until Harry's alarm went off the next morning.

Harry got ready for school the next morning as Ron tried to piece together the clock that he's blasted into the wall again. The tiny teenager was exhausted, but pleased. _Finally I can do something tangible to protect them._

"This will protect her against most muggle weapons and non-magical injury for two weeks," Hermione reminded him as she placed the finished project, a bracelet of twisted gold twine with the pink bead in the centre, into Harry's outstretched palm. "And it only works for one near death experience, to put it simply. Once it's been activated it starts to die, so if someone tries to stab her, an hour later the Shielding Charm will wear out."

"Short term protection, got it," Harry nodded, rolling the beaded threads around in his hand. "I'm not sure how to give it to her. I mean, she's Christian so I have to be careful what I call it. I don't think she'd react so well I've I called it a talisman."

"Say it's a good luck charm?" Ron suggested, still squinting at the plastic casing of Harry's alarm clock, pulling another hunk of it out of the wall. Hermione nodded.

"That's not a bad idea. Just make it sound like she's doing you a favour by wearing it. We'll work on Kurt's while you're at school. Now that we know what we're doing it shouldn't take as long."

"Thank you guys so much for this," Harry pulled Hermione into a hug, gratitude swelling in his chest. "I know you guys are doing most of the work here. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione pressed a kiss to his cheek, and Harry couldn't help but notice that it felt totally different to when Kurt had done it. "It's the right thing to do, and these people mean a lot to you."

"You're totally getting me a brilliant Christmas present this year, though," Ron added, grinning when Hermione rolled her eyes at him. Harry laughed.

"Mate, I'll buy you a Quidditch team. I've got to go, see you tonight," he waved goodbye and grabbed his school bag. After checking on Remus, who had recently discovered the home shopping channel and was buying anything he could think of a use for ("Harry, I think we need duck-shaped serving platters." "If you say so, Remus."), Harry head off for school. _My life has the weirdest normal of any life that ever was._

Kurt was pinned at the dumpster again, trading barbs with Azimio as the other jocks cracked their knuckles threateningly when Harry was approaching the school. The wizard rolled his eyes and started running towards them, reaching Azimio just in time to pull his hand off Kurt's collar.

"Good morning, boys," Harry greeted, pushing Azimio back into Karofsky and stepping in front of Kurt. "Kurt, you okay?"

"Fine," Kurt sniffed, his voice as cutting as a razor when he went on to say, "It's not like these boys would have been stupid enough to throw me in the dumpster - which is technically assault - while there are police officers less than 10 feet away."

The jocks all went pale and turned around. Sure enough, a pair of uniformed officers were approaching with fierce scowls on their faces. Harry bit back a smile as Kurt said sweetly, "Oh, had you forgotten they were there? I hadn't."

"Is there a problem here, boys?" one of the officers asked severely, folding his arms and staring down the now nervous looking jocks. His partner had his hands on his hips as he joined him, but both men took the time to nod to Kurt when he greeted them cheerfully by name.

"No, sir. No problem," Azimio muttered, looking anywhere but at the cops. He was shifting his weight, and glaring at Karofsky, who looked sheepishly at his feet. "We was just messing with our friends here."

"We're not friends," Kurt said automatically, leaning against Harry's side. He slipped an arm casually around Harry's shoulder, and Harry slid an arm around Kurt's waist like he'd seen Mercedes do. Kurt's face was pink but proud when he tilted his chin up and continued. "You're a bunch of thugs who enjoy making my life a living hell. Get it right."

"Maybe we should have a little talk, boys," one of the officers growled, jerking his head towards their car. "Or are you going to be leaving Kurt and Harry alone?"

"We'll leave 'em alone," Karofsky assure him, grabbing Azimio's arm and tugging him away. "Thank you sir, we'll just go inside and not bother them anymore."

"Good idea, son. You do that," the jocks took off for the school, leaving Kurt and Harry behind without a seconds thought. Kurt giggled when Azimio shoved Karofsky.

"He makes a terrible look out," he told Harry almost fondly, before smiling at the police officers. "Officer Delkousis, Officer Price, thank you for your help."

"Not a problem, Kurt. You just give us a yell if they give you trouble again, okay?" Officer Price smiled, waving the two boys towards the school. "You head on to class, now. We'll see you during Glee rehearsals."

"See you there!" Kurt chirped, waving with his free hand as he and Harry made their way towards the school. His voice was satisfied when he muttered. "I knew making cupcakes for the cops would come in handy."

"You do make damn good cupcakes," Harry agreed. They chatted a little as they walked through the halls, still wrapped up with one another. They were standing next to Kurt's locker when Harry remembered the talisman in his pocket. "Oh yeah! I have to find Quinn."

"Why? What's up?" Kurt asked as he pulled his books from his locker, tilting the door to check his hair in the mirror. Harry dug around in his pocket, pulling the bracelet out.

"I have to give her this," he explained, turning the magically warm bead over in his hand. When he looked back up, Kurt had frozen, his hair spray still in his hand. The taller boy's eyes were wide and hurt, and Harry reached out to touch his arm. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurt said faintly, turning back to face his locker. To Harry's confusion he just stared blankly into it for a few seconds, before putting the spray down without fixing his hair. Kurt coughed a little, his voice quiet and hard. "You know she has a boyfriend, right?"

"What? Of course I know..." Harry trailed off, his mind slowly connecting the dots. He let out a help and rushed to correct Kurt. "Wait, no! It's not like that!"

"So you're just buying her a bracelet for the hell of it?" Kurt slammed his locker shut, and Harry jumped a little at the noise. He rounded on Harry and put his book-free hand on his hip. "Should I be warning Sam about the competition he's got?"

"He doesn't have any competition from me," Harry insisted, exasperated. "It's a good luck charm. You know, since she's next on the list?"

An idea struck him, and he went with it without thinking, "I started making them last year, and no one I gave one to died while they were wearing one so it would make me feel better if she had one. I made this for Quinn last night because I thought she might be feeling a little scared right now. Yours is halfway done already."

Kurt's expression had frozen into a kind of 'deer-in-headlights' look, and he was silent for a long moment, "...oh."

Harry shook his head, "Yeah. Oh. Give me a little credit, would you?"

"Sorry," Kurt muttered, glancing away. His face had flushed red and he couldn't look Harry in the eye. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Kurt's arm, linking them firmly and starting towards his own locker down the hall.

"It's okay. Forget about it. Just - where's her locker?"

"Back that way, but we have Literature second period. You can give it to her then."

"All right. I'll walk you to History."

"Thanks."

They walked to Kurt's class in silence, Harry only nodding at Kurt's tentative, "See you after class, then?" He fumed all the way through Math, taking notes silently with a fierce scowl that encouraged Mike not to talk to him. By the time Math ended he had a decent pout going and was feeling quite hard done by, what with Hermione and Ron keeping secrets and Kurt jumping to conclusions. He couldn't keep it up, though; his irritation melted away when he saw Kurt nervously hovering outside his classroom, replaced by the familiar rush of affection-that-wasn't-quite-affection he felt whenever he saw the taller boy recently. Kurt was worrying his lower lip in his teeth when Harry slipped up to him, and started talking the moment the tiny teen was close enough to hear.

"Harry, I'm really sorry I accused you of trying to steal Quinn from Sam. I should have known that you're more honourable than that. I mean, you even said so not so long ago," he babbled, looking so earnest and distressed that Harry just reached out and took his arm, linking in with his own as he usually did.

"It's okay," Harry assured him, starting to talk towards Literature. "Consider yourself forgiven."

Kurt let out a huge sigh, placing a hand daintily over his chest, "Oh, thank Jacobs. I've been feeling like a total bitch for the last hour, and you were so annoyed before I was sure you would still be pissed."

"Yeah, well, I just can't stay mad at you," Harry shrugged with a teasing smile, waving at Artie as he rolled past. Kurt didn't reply, but a quick glance at him showed Harry that his cheeks were pink and a pleased smile was dancing around his lips. Harry decided not to over think it; he had enough mysteries to deal with.

Mercedes and Quinn were already in Literature, Quinn looking pale and tired. For a moment Harry worried that maybe she'd been poisoned, but a silent medical scan showed that she was just exhausted. She smiled weakly when Harry and Kurt took their normal seats, Mercedes catching both of them in a hug before they sat down.

"Hey Quinn," Harry greeted her softly as Mercedes drawled to Kurt something about a leaked designer collection she'd heard about. Quinn's smile was offset by the exhaustion and fear in her eyes, and Harry winced. He reached for the bracelet in his pocket, feeling the soothing protection magic radiating from the powerful charm. "Don't freak out like Kurt did, but I got you something."

Quinn raised an eyebrow as Harry pulled the bracelet out, and he hurried to explain, "It's a good luck charm. I made them for my friends last year, and none of them got hurt while they wore one. I know it's kind of silly and superstitious, but if nothing else I would feel better knowing you had one."

"That's... really sweet, Harry," Quinn took the gold twine from his fingers delicately, looking over the glinting pale pink bead with a sharp eye. Mercedes and Kurt turned to look when Quinn held it up, Mercedes shooting Kurt an alarmed glance that he soothed with a smile. The cheerleader smiled at Harry, more genuinely this time, but there was a hesitance there that made Harry thought that maybe she'd gotten the wrong idea too. "Thank you, Harry. It's pretty."

"Thanks," Harry tried to keep his smile casual, shrugging and starting to take his books out of his bag. "Like I said, it's more for my peace of mind than anything. Everyone who wore them survived last year. I know it's just superstition but maybe it can make you feel a bit safer too."

"Oh, so she gets one and we don't?" Mercedes voice was light and teasing, and Harry rolled his eyes as she went on with a melodramatic pout. "Admit it. Quinn's your favourite."

"Speak for yourself, mine is halfway done. Right, Harry?" Kurt fixed his fringe and sniffed at Mercedes. Harry nodded.

"I just have to get some more beads and thread. I thread the twists from string so it takes a while," Harry confirmed. Quinn tapped him on the shoulder, holding out her wrist with the bracelet in her hand.

"Could you tie it on me, please?" Quinn asked, smiling when Harry reached out and tied a tight knot in the twine. He could see her relax as the magic enveloped her, her subconscious able to detect the protection even if she didn't consciously know it was there. For his part, Harry could almost see the shield around her, the magic shimmering across her skin. "Thanks, Harry. I feel safer already."

_You are. Now I just have to hope that this doesn't give me away._

The class began, the teacher popping in a movie version of Frankenstein they'd apparently already watched the week before Harry had started and leaving the class to dissolve into chaos. Harry built catapults out of pens and rubber bands with Puck while Quinn braided Mercedes' hair and Kurt took pictures on his phone. Harry could feel himself relaxing. At that moment it didn't matter than there was a stalker out to get them, or that they had a performance in four days, or that when he got home he'd be up half the night weaving a complex spell to try and protect Kurt in any way he could. They were allowed to mess around and chat and play because they were normal(ish) kids.


	11. Chapter 10

(A/N: New chapter! NOTE ON SONGS: Okay, I don't like song fics either, but doing the Sectionals chapter it was kind of necessary. It will be a rare occurance, I promise! This is the last chapter in this story you'll have to deal with it! AND PAY ATTENTION! There are plot relavent threads throughout Kurt's song. You can skip the other ones, though. Enjoy and please review!)

* * *

In between rehearsals and spell weaving, Thursday came quickly for Harry. Before he knew it he was sitting in the back of the Glee Club bus, laughing as Kurt and Mercedes sang a rowdy version of, "I'm Coming Out," at the top of their lungs, with Artie and Tina harmonising and Rachel providing vocal runs to back them up. Quinn and Puck were filming the impromptu performance on their phones, and Santana and Brittany were lying down in the back seat of the bus doing Merlin knew what. Mr Schuester was sitting at the front of the bus chatting to Sam and Mike as he helped Finn untangle his scarf, which he had somehow managed to wrap around his neck about six times far too tightly. There were three cops sitting nearby him, to keep an eye on things, but the kids were in high spirits, excited for their show and confident in their chances. Harry was practically vibrating in his seat, surprised by how much he was looking forward to the performance. He hated being seen, but he'd had so much fun in rehearsals, it just felt like an extension of that. AND he would finally find out what Kurt's song was, the other boy having practiced in private and sworn the group to secrecy for the singular purpose of teasing Harry.

The bus ride to the town Sectionals would take place in was nearly two hours away, so they'd had to get to the school at 7 in the morning in order to make sure they were there by 9.30. The show would start at 11, so they'd have plenty of time to get into costume, see the stage, and freak out. Harry leaned back against the window as Kurt and Mercedes finished their performance, bowing to the cell phone cameras and blowing kissing to the now applauding backup singers. Mercedes then grabbed Rachel's hand and starting singing a song Harry didn't recognise, Rachel joining in by the second line. Kurt giggled and waved them away when they motioned for him to join them, collapsing back into his seat next to Harry with a dramatic sigh. He leaned back so his head was on Harry's shoulder, tilting his head back so he could look at Harry's face with wide, laughter-bright eyes.

"I think," he began clearly, furrowing his brow. "That the early morning and excitement is making me a little hysterical."

"I think it might be," Harry agreed, smiling down at him. Kurt sat up and swung around to face Harry, his face lit up by an excited smile.

"This is it! Sectionals," he sighed, placing both hands over his heart. "My first solo. My big break as a music-masher-upper."

"I'm pretty sure that's not a real thing."

"Shut up, it totally is now. And I'm good at it!" Kurt clasped his hands in front of his face. "Are you excited? I'm so excited! Do you think your friends will like it? I'm sure they will, we're going to be amazing."

"I'm actually more excited than I thought I would be," Harry admitted, interrupting before Kurt passed out from lack of breath. "I thought I would be freaking out, you know? But I'm just really looking forward to it."

"Don't worry, we'll all be freaking out backstage," Kurt assured him. Behind him, Rachel and Mercedes were dancing to the song they were singing (something about wanting men after midnight) and Kurt followed Harry's gaze to watch the show even as he continued. "I know I'll be hyperventilating before I walk on. I can't believe I've got a solo. I didn't think I would ever get a solo for as long as Rachel and Finn still had voices."

"You're an amazing singer, Kurt," Harry smiled at the pleased pink tint Kurt's cheeks took on at the praise. "Even if I've never heard this song - because you're a stubborn git - I know you're going to be spectacular."

"Don't get your hopes up too high," Kurt warned him, still blushing slightly. "I still have plenty of time to lose my voice or fall down a flight of stairs or have an anvil land on my head or something."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Harry started. "Actually, that reminds me."

He leaned down and grabbed his bag, reaching for the finished protection talisman in the front pocket. He, Ron and Hermione had finally been able to seal the charm last night. It had taken them longer than expected because for some reason it was much more magically charged than the one they had made for Quinn. Hermione had started giggling when Harry noted this, and had refused to explain why. Harry pulled out the glittering bracelet and turned to Kurt, who was looking at him with a big smile.

"Your 'good luck charm' is finally done," Harry proclaimed dramatically, making Kurt giggle. He dropped his voice back to normal as he placed it in Kurt's soft hand. "Sorry it took so long, this one is a little more complex, and I wanted to make sure that it would suit you. I know how much you hate wearing unstylish clothes, and I figured jewellery would follow the same principle."

"Harry, it's gorgeous," Kurt breathed, reverently turning the silver talisman over in his hands. Harry smiled a little proudly; he'd known Kurt wouldn't wear just anything, so he'd spent some extra time making it as elegant as possible. The result was three slender metal ropes in black, grey, and silver twisting around one another with three obsidian beads threaded at the front. "Really, it's lovely. You made this?"

"With my own two hands," Harry confirmed, mentally amending it to, _and my own one wand_. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" Kurt gushed, holding out one slender wrist and handing the bracelet to Harry. "Will you fasten it, please?"

Harry took it obediently, slipping it around Kurt's wrist and clipping the small clasp together. Harry found himself distracted by the feel of Kurt's skin under his finger tips - _how is his skin so soft? It feels like silk... _Harry was snapped out of his daze by Kurt clearing his throat, his face red and his eyes curious.

"You should probably let go of my hand now," he told Harry, not unkindly. Harry let go of the wrist like it was red-hot; he had no idea how long he'd been sitting there caressing Kurt's wrist for.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking down so some hair fell into his eyes. Kurt made an annoyed noise and reached out to brush it away.

"Hey, now, don't you dare," he scolded, and Harry raised an eyebrow. Kurt rolled his eyes. "You try to hide behind this-" he tugged on Harry's fringe none-too-gently " - whenever you get embarrassed. Cut it out. If the rest of us don't get an automatic veil when we do something stupid then you can't get one either. It isn't fair."

He suddenly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Harry's torso, giving him a tight hug, "Thank you for my bracelet, Harry. I just know it's going to bring me good luck."

Then Kurt was slipping out of his seat and showing Quinn his bracelet as Mercedes and Rachel attempted to out-belt one another. Harry was left leaning against the window wondering why his pulse was racing and his face felt hot.

The rest of the bus ride passed in loud song and much chatter. As they got closer and closer to the theatre the performance would take place in the noise level rose, excitement and nervousness acting as stimulants for the already hyperactive teenagers. When they finally arrived they poured out of the bus in one huge mob, Harry actually getting picked up in the crowd and making it outside without his feet touching the ground. They stood and waited patiently at the side of the bus while an embarrassed Artie was being unloaded in his chair, but Mercedes and Kurt kept up a steady stream of conversation with him to prevent him from blushing too red. Mr Schuester eventually herded them inside, leaving them huddled around a few chairs in the lobby while he tracked down the program to find out when they would be going on. Harry was wedged between Puck and Finn on the couch, both boys basically shoving their elbows into his mouth. Harry felt two soft hands slide around the sides of his face, dragging his head back and out of the way of the elbows. His back hit the back of the sofa with a light thump, and he looking up into Kurt excited eyes leaning over him.

"Hi!" the standing boy trilled, not moving his hands from Harry's head. "We're here!"

"Yes, yes we are," Harry agreed, grinning at the almost manic joy on his friend's face. "Are you excited at all? I can't tell."

"I'm excited! I'm so excited!" Kurt let go of Harry's face to clap his hands briefly, not even bothering to smack Harry upside the head for the little sarcastic dig at his expense. He draped down a bit to lean his elbows on the back of the couch, leaving his head only a few inches from Harry's. "Are you excited?"

"I'm excited," Harry laughed as Brittany suddenly tackled Kurt from behind, knocking the boy forward and almost over the back of the couch. "I think Brittany might be too."

"Guys!" Mr Schuester managed to at least partially quiet them. "Just got the information, we're third. Hopefully no one will have stolen our set list this time."

The group laughed, cheering when Puck added, "Not that it'll stop us if they did."

"That's right. They've given us a dressing room to put all our stuff in and get into costume in, our stage time is at 9.45. Grab your things, let's get to the room," the group rose and grabbed bags and friends and started making their way to their dressing room. Kurt had both Rachel and Mercedes on an arm, so Harry just trailed along behind them, looking around for any signs of trouble. There were police officers stationed at various places around the room, both obvious uniformed ones and a few plain clothes made obvious by the wires in their ears. Harry narrowed his eyes at the crowd and shifted so he was walking behind Quinn, who had Sam's arm around her shoulder and Puck walking at her other side. He couldn't sense any immediate danger to the girl, and her talisman would protect her for the most part, but it was better to be safe than to be sorry. He did slip around to the front of the group when they approached the dressing room, hopefully subtly making sure that he was the first one in to gauge the danger. But the room was empty and a quick magical scan showed no tampering or danger, so Harry allowed himself to relax and put his bag down next to Kurt's enormous makeup kit. Between Kurt and Rachel's extensive performance supplies things were a little crowded, but since the wizard had almost none of his own (Kurt offering to do Harry's make up when the boy had confessed that all of his stage make up had been bought from a drug store) they managed.

The next few hours were a blur of laughter, vocal warm ups, rehearsals and nerves. They watched the first group, a bizarre elderly glee club who's performance ended abruptly when one of the members beat another with a walking stick and they had to be separated. The following club, an all-boys' school called Dalton, was worryingly good, doing a selection of acapella pop numbers lead by an attractive boy with a big smile and a bigger voice. Harry overheard Rachel muttering to Finn that they were, 'technically good, but boring to watch and only bolstered by the lead singer's charisma,' which seemed a little harsh to the wizard, but she knew more about these things than he did.

Finally they were backstage getting into their costumes, only twenty minutes until they were on stage. The costume was apparently a fairly typical New Directions costume, black shirt and pants with a white tie for the guys, black and white dresses for the girls. (Kurt was the only one who hadn't giggled when Harry had needed to buy his pants from the pre-teen section of the department store, instead just smiling sympathetically and patting him on the shoulder while the wizard pouted.) Now, Kurt was swiping powder across Harry's cheeks with practiced ease, the smaller boy in costume and feeling uncomfortable with his hair gelled off his face. Rachel and Kurt were both humming to keep their voices warm, and Mike was going over the choreography with Finn. Harry felt a thrill of excitement go through him, like he used to before a big Quidditch match, and he shifted in his seat so he could see the clock on the wall.

"Not long now," Harry noted, allowing Kurt to push him back against the seat with a huff. He looked up into Kurt's blue-green eyes as the boy dabbed a little more powder at the corner of his mouth, and smiled. "Are you nervous? I mean, your solo is the first thing."

"I recall, thank you," Kurt squinted at the makeup he was brushing across Harry face, pausing to shoot Harry a worried look. "I'm terrified. If I screw this up I could lose us the competition. He should have picked Rachel, I'm not ready for this."

"Bullshit," Harry grabbed the pale hand that was holding his face to the light and squeezed it firmly. "You're amazing and you deserve this."

"It's not about what I deserve, it's about what's best for the club," Kurt sighed, biting his lip. Harry could see the insecurity in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. "Glee will end if we don't win this. It needs to be perfect."

"It will be," Harry said firmly, conviction in every syllable. He grabbed Kurt around the waist without thinking and turned him around, pulling him back so he was sitting between Harry's legs on the chair. Harry ignored the startled yelp in favour of rubbing his thumbs into the tense muscles of Kurt's shoulders. "You just need to relax and do whatever it is you did during your audition that so touched Mr Schuester."

"It's going to be such a change of pace, from my song to Ke$ha," Kurt continued to fret, even as he leaned into Harry's soothing touch. As Harry alternated between listening and being distracted by the play of muscles under his fingers, Kurt went on. "Total mood whiplash."

"Mr Schue took that into account," Harry reminded him, trying not to notice the light scent of a cologne or perfume on Kurt's neck._ Sniffing people is weird in any world, Harry. Cut it out._"He said that the blocking would help ease the transition. Besides, the mash up is before the Ke$ha number."

"Still, Cyndi Lauper and Lady Gaga from - what I'm singing," Harry sighed as Kurt continued to keep him in suspense as to his song choice. "It's going to be a pretty huge leap."

"It will be fine," Harry slipped his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled the boy back against him in a hug. He leaned his chin on Kurt's shoulder, looking up at him with sincere green eyes. "You're exceptional, and anyone who doesn't think so can go kick a _bear_. If we don't win, we'll work something out to keep Glee going and it won't be your fault. It'll be the judges fault for being morons."

Kurt looked the smaller boy over his shoulder, a grateful smile lightening his features and soothing some of the tense lines in his forehead, "Thank you, Harry."

Harry felt one of those strange, familiar urges go through him as he looked at his friend's open, honest face. He thought about Hermione's advice -_ Don't think about what the urge is, just give in _- and stopped thinking. He allowed his instinct to tug him forward -

"Guys!"

Mr Schuester's cheerful cry made both Harry and Kurt jump, and the boys pulled apart automatically. Kurt's face slid into a furious glare, and Harry thought he might be pouting. Harry's heart was racing and he didn't know why, didn't know what had almost happened, didn't understand his own reaction at all. All he knew was that suddenly it was their five minute call and they had to get backstage. He, Kurt, Mike and Artie were the only ones starting actually backstage; the rest would be coming down through the audience in what was apparently another New Directions tradition. Harry was glad he was there. He would be able to see the boy's performance from backstage. As Artie and Mike disappeared off backstage right, Kurt and Harry slipped backstage left and stood in silence. The house lights were up as the audience filed in, and Harry stepped to the side to allow a black garbed stagehand past.

"This is it," Kurt whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the chattering audience. Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "No turning back now."

"Damn good thing, too," Harry smiled up at his friend. "You're going to rock it. Show them what you've got, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt smiled back, excitement and fear warring with something else in his eyes, "That I will, Harry Potter."

As the stage lights went down and the stage went dark, Kurt gave him a quick hug and whispered, "thank you," into Harry's ear, before slipping on stage silently to be there when the spot light came up. Harry watched the darkness with bated breath as the slow melody of the piano began, sad and sweet. The lights came up slowly, revealing Kurt standing alone in the centre of the stage looking proud and dignified. When he opened his mouth, Harry held his breath.

_As long as he need me,_

The words poured from Kurt's mouth at a stylistically soft volume, clear and sweet in that way that Kurt's voice always was.

_Oh, yes, he does need me..._

It was lower than Harry was used to hearing Kurt sing, making use of his oft-forgotten lower register.

_In spite of what you see,_  
_I'm sure that he needs me._

Harry felt a pang in his chest at the melancholy tone, Kurt somehow managing to convey the sadness and love and resignation in the words.

_Who else could love him still_  
_When they've been used so ill?_  
_He knows I always will,_  
_As long as he needs me._

The audience was totally silent, Kurt's pure voice reverberating around the stillness. Kurt was standing perfectly still, solid and stoic. From his angle Harry couldn't see his face, but from the tone he could picture it in his minds' eye; proud but resigned, quietly agonised.

_I miss him so much when he's gone,_  
_But when he's near me I don't let on,_

_The way I feel inside_  
_The love I have to hide,_  
_To hell I've gone my pride,_  
_As long as he need me._

There was a vicious, desperate edge to Kurt's voice now as the emotion eroded away at the strength the character was showing. His voice soared with power through the auditorium, and Harry's breath caught in his throat as Kurt's voice became mournful, pitiful, hurt -

_He doesn't say the things he should,_  
_He acts the way he thinks he should,_  
_But all the same,_  
_I'll play this game his way._

Harry's heart was beating a mile a minute, racing so hard he could feel his pulse in his fingers. He longed to run out onto the stage and take Kurt into his arms, brush the tears (that Harry imagined there) off his face, _kiss_ him_ - Oh. Right._

_As long as he needs me_  
_I know where I must be_  
_I'll cling on steadfastly,_  
_As long as he needs me._

Harry watched, transfixed, as Kurt belted out his song under the glare of the stage lights, not missing or hesitating on a single note. The smaller boy's mind latched on to his realisation and didn't let him move on,_ Kurt. I want Kurt. I want to be with Kurt. I'm in love with kurt. That's what's been missing. That's what I've been feeling. God, how did I miss this? How did I not work this out? He's so perfect. How could I _not_ want him? I'm an idiot. I need to tell him, I need to ask him, but...  
_

_If you are lonely, then you will know_  
_When someone needs you, you love them so._

Green eyes were thoughtful and conflicted as they latched on to the taller boy's lithe form on stage._ Is it worth risking? His friendship means so much to me. He accepted me when so few people ever have. He looks out for me but respects my boundaries. He understands me without needing to know about my secrets. Could we get that friendship back if it didn't work? Could I handle it if we didn't? What would I gain from a relationship that I wouldn't get from his friendship?... He's so beautiful right now. He always is. I want this. I want him._

_I won't betray his trust,_  
_Though people say I must_  
_I've got to stay true, just_  
_As long as he needs me._

As the last note soared from Kurt's mouth, filling the auditorium and piercing Harry's heart, the wizard couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. _I'm totally in love with Kurt. I want to be with him. I'm going to ask him... wow, the last couple of weeks make so much more sense now. I'm a moron.  
_

The audience was on its feet with applause, Kurt breathing heavily on the centre of the stage waiting it out. It seemed to go on forever as Harry waited for his cue, weeks of stress and confusion converting themselves into joy and an almost frantic energy (which, he noted later, were very useful considering what he needed to do) at his realisation. As the crowd finally quietened, Kurt spoke up.

"Ladies and gentlemen - New Directions!"

As the crowd cheered, the beat started, Harry took a few steps back - he was going to need a run up. His cue was Mike's nod from the other side of the stage. The fast melody kicked in over the beat, Mike nodded, and Harry ran. The boys reached the designated points on the stage and Harry pitched himself forward into a flip, then two. He knew Mike would be mirroring him on the other side of the stage, and they landed the flips just as Rachel burst through the door at the top of the auditorium,

_Come home in the morning light,_  
_My mother yells, "When you gonna live your life right?"_  
_Oh mother dear, we're not the fortunate ones, _  
_And girls, they wanna have fun,_  
_Oh, girls just wanna have fun._

The other girls bounced in behind her, smiles bright and dancing to the beat. On stage, Harry and Mike flipped across the stage, Kurt slipping in between them in a perfect Cheerio cartwheel. Artie rolled on stage in front of them, double turning to the centre of the stage. This routine was almost hyperactively energetic, all acrobatics and frenetic energy. Mercedes belted the next verse as the girls twirled their way down the stairs towards the stage.

_Phone rings in the middle of the night,_  
_My father yells, "What you gonna do with your life?"_  
_Oh daddy dear, you know you're still number one._  
_And girls, they wanna have fun,_  
_Oh girls just wanna -_

_**Just dance!**_

Finn, Puck and Sam burst in through the other door, Finn taking the first few lines as the girls made it to the stage and started the dance routine.

_Wish I could check my playboy mouth -_

The rest of the group carried the backup vocals as Puck took over for the next line,

_How'd I turn my shirt inside out?_

As the three boys made their way down, playing up to the audience and moving to the beat, Harry followed the movements of the routine smoothly. He barely noticed the audience, that he was on display; instead, all he could think of was the next step, the next beat of music, the next line of lyric. Sam belted out the next line as they approached the stage.

_Control your poison, babe. _  
_Roses have thorns, they say._  
_And we're all getting hosed tonight._

The boys jumped onto the stage, everyone but Artie pairing up with a member of the opposite sex. Harry went with Rachel - she was the girl closest in height to him. Artie rolled in front of them, doing every wheelchair trick he knew as he and Rachel alternated lines,

_What's going on in the club?_

_I love this record, baby, but I can't see straight anymore._

_Keep it cool, what's the name of this club?_

_I can't remember but it's all right, all right._

_Just DANCE_

Harry felt his grin splitting his face as he joined in to sing with the boys in the chorus, moving more freely than he had in rehearsals. It felt different to how it had when he'd been in the spotlight before. He guessed it was because no one was looking at him, just them.

_Just, just jus just just -_

_Wanna have fun!_

Santana and Brittany twirled away from their partners in time to do a pair of very impressive split jumps on the word fun. Rachel let go of Harry to rush to the front, belting with gusto.

_That's all they really want!_  
_Some fun,_  
_When the working day is done,_  
_Oh, girl, just wanna have_  
_Girls just wanna_

_Just dance._

The group froze in their ending tableaux, with Kurt, Santana, and Brittany all doing split jumps on the last beat and Harry and Mike back flipping to the edge of the group. The audience was going crazy, and the group just waited for the cue from the stage manager. When it came, Santana began,

_Hot and dangerous,_  
_If you're one of us, then roll with us,_  
_'cause we make the hipsters fall in love,_  
_When we've got our hot pants on and up._

Brittany took over, sliding over the stage to her side to start the routine,

_And yes, of course we does,_  
_We're running this town just like a club_  
_And no, you don't wanna mess with us,_  
_Got Jesus on my necka-lace-lace-ace_

Quinn slipped in between them to start the bridge.

_Got that glitter on my eyes,_

The group turned and bounced with the music, Brittany and Mike's choreography more challenging than any of them had been used to, but even Finn managed to keep to the beat and not kick anyone over, although Harry did have to duck a stray elbow a few times.

_Stockings ripped all up the side,_

Quinn, Brittany and Santana were leading both the dance and the vocals for the bridge, ready for the flip that would signify the start of the chorus and the group's cue to start singing.

_Looking sick and sexy-fied,_  
_So let's go-o-o,_  
_Let's go!_

On "Go" all three girls flipped back into line with the rest of the group in unison, their cheerleading training evident in their skill. The front line now consisted of Harry, Santana, Rachel, Quinn, Tina, Brittany, and Mike, with the others lined up between them and Artie spinning along in front of them, carrying the vocals while the others danced and echoed him in harmony.

_Tonight we're going hard (hard, ha-hard, ha-hard)_  
_Just like the world is ours (our-ou-ou-ou-ours)_  
_We're tearing it apart (part-pa-pa-pa-part)_  
_You know we're superstars_

And as one, the group faced the audience and belted,

_We r who we r!_

The dance resumed.

_We're dancing like we're dumb (du-du-du-du-dumb)_  
_Our bodies going numb (na-na-na-na-numb)_  
_We'll be forever young (youn-ya-ya-ya-young)_  
_You know we're superstars_

_We r who we r!_

Finn pushed in between Quinn and Tina to take over lead vocals.

_DJ, turn it up._  
_It's about darn time to live it up,_  
_I'm so sick of being so serious_  
_It's making my brain delirious_

Mercedes burst through to join him.

_I'm just talking true,_  
_I'm telling you 'bout the stuff we do_  
_We're selling our clothes_  
_Sleepin' in cars_  
_Dressin' it down _  
_hitting on dudes... hard._

Rachel took the bridge on her own as Puck, Santana, Brittany and Finn backed her up physically, with the two boys providing the spring board for the girls' to flip at the end.

_Got that glitter on my eyes,_  
_Stockings ripped all up the sides,_  
_Looking sick and sexy-fied,_  
_So let's go-o-o_  
_Let's go!_

The audience was cheering as Mike and Brittany took to the centre of the stage and started a particularly complex routine, which the rest of the group mimicked in a more simple form as they sung.

_Tonight we're going hard (hard-ha-ha-ha-hard)_  
_Just like the world is ours (Our-o-o-o-ours)_  
_We're tearing it apart (par-pa-pa-pa-part)_  
_You know we're superstars_  
_We r who we r!_  
_We're dacning like we're dumb (dumb-da-da-da-dumb)_  
_Our bodies going numb (Numb-na-na-na-numb(_  
_We'll be forever young (You-ya-ya-ya-young)_  
_We know we're superstars,_  
_We r who we r!_

_DJ, turn it up-up-up-up-up_

The group spread across the stage and moved with the music, no routine, just improvisation. Harry found himself staring at Kurt again from the back of the stage on the risers, feeling himself blushing as Kurt leaned on Artie's wheelchair in order to pull on of his legs up so he was doing a standing split._ I forget how flexible he is. Focus, Potter, don't fall off the stage or run into Finn again. I wonder if he's going to follow the girls' routine for the next part again?_

_DJ, turn it up-up-up-up_  
_DJ, turn it up-up-up-up-up..._

The music thumped into the vocal-free interlude, and the group continued dancing. Harry got a little distracted. _Oh, yeah, that's the girls routine. Mr Schuester is going to kill him...I don't mind it, though...Kurt's a really good dancer ...hips...stage! Don't fall off the stage! Focus, Potter, for fucks' sake! Keep it your pants and focus!_

Face burning, Harry managed to drag himself out of his embarrassing line of thought in time to front flip off of the riser on cue, over Rachel and into a roll to the front of the stage. Once there he did a standing back flip to the back row, in between Tina and Rachel who were rushing to the front, feeling a little dizzy from all the time he was spending upside-down. He'd learnt acrobatics as part of his physical training, it was true, but he'd done more in the last few weeks in Glee than he ever had in the war. Rachel and Mercedes carried the vocal runs as the group belted out the last chorus.

_Tonight we're going hard (hard-ha-ha-ha-hard)_  
_Just like the world is ours (Our-o-o-o-ours)_  
_We're tearing it apart (par-pa-pa-pa-part)_  
_You know we're superstars_  
_We r who we r!_  
_We're dancing like we're dumb (dumb-da-da-da-dumb)_  
_Our bodies going numb (Numb-na-na-na-numb(_  
_We'll be forever young (You-ya-ya-ya-young)_  
_We know we're superstars,_  
_We r who we r!_

The song ended with a bang, most of the group clumped in the centre of the stage with their heads dropped, facing the floor. Then Brittany popped up the back with a cheer, jumping off the riser to a split jump, landing in Punk and Finn's arms. The audience erupted into applause as the lights went down. Harry felt Kurt's familiar hand briefly catch his when the applause didn't stop, and the smaller boy's grin flickered, a rush of warmth rushing from his heart to his linked hand and back again. He almost clung on when Kurt let go; he didn't want it to stop.

They shuffled off the stage and back into their dressing room, trying to muffle their excited whispers and squeals backstage. Harry stayed silent, his eyes locked on the back of Kurt's head. A whole new type of nervousness was coursing through him, somehow more intense than the nervousness from before the show. His mind was whirring, trying to catch up to the realisation from barely 15 minutes before.

_Okay, okay, okay. I am seriously crushing on Kurt over here. Like, madly in love, infatuated, want-to-hold-him-and-never-let-him-go level crushing. That's okay! I can work with this. I think Hermione and Ron knew and were letting me work it out and no warning me away so... maybe they think he likes me back? Wait, what were they saying when I came into the living room? "Just wait a little longer..." Does he know I have feelings for him too! Did they _tell_ him? No, they wouldn't do that, he must have worked it out. But how... oh. Right. The stammering, blushing **mess** I have been around him recently may have clued him in. I'm an idiot. That would also explain why the Glee kids get weird about us sometimes. I'm freaking all over him. Merlin, does everyone know but me? I know I'm pretty damn stunted socially, but come on. I am such a boy. _

He came back into himself as the group started cheering at whatever Mr Schuester had been saying. He started clapping politely, still not entirely with them, as the teacher continued.

"We have an hour until the final verdict is reached, guys. Relax, don't stress too much, but stay in here, okay? We can't have you guys running around with this many people around."

The group dissolved into chatter. Harry managed to remain ignored as he looked for Kurt. The boy was hugging Brittany and squealing, his smile so wide it looked painful. He slipped in between Finn and Quinn to walk to Kurt's side, barely aware of what he was going to do but knowing he had to do it. Kurt caught his eye when he was just halfway there, stepping away from Brittany and towards Harry.

Before Kurt could talk, Harry raised a hand and took a deep breath, "Congratulations on your solo, you were as awe inspiring and captivating and _incredible_ as you always are and I knew you would be, but may I say something before I wimp out?"

Kurt blinked, but nodded, a hopeful light in his eyes. Harry steeled himself, "Look, I'm not a stupid guy but I can be incredibly oblivious sometimes. Like, _special_ oblivious. I realised while you were singing that the past couple of weeks - in fact, probably since I met you - it's been one of those times. I've been a total moron for not... not working out how I felt about you. How I feel about you. You're an amazing person and gorgeous and perfect and I was feeling all these things around you I didn't understand, but then I watched you sing that song and all I could think about was how you deserved so much better than just to be needed, how much you deserved to be happy and wanted and loved and how I wanted to give you that. I - I want to make you happy and give you the love and attention you deserve. I know you've probably worked it out because I know Ron and Hermione have - in fact, I'm pretty sure everyone and their MOTHER knew it except me- but Kurt, I am totally crazy about you."

The room ceased to exist as Harry stared up into Kurt's beaming face. The taller boy's blue-green eyes (that had always distracted and entranced Harry) were bright, and he looked as if he were either going to swoon or start squealing. Harry took it as a good sign and continued with a wide eyed cringe, "I'm really hoping from the fact that you're not running screaming that you're okay with having an admirer in an ugly midget with more issues that Time Magazine, but I should also probably warn you that I have no idea what I'm meant to do now."

"I'm pretty sure you're meant to kiss me," Kurt informed him helpfully, and he stepped forward and took Harry's hand. Harry blinked, then looked around.

"I may need something to stand on."

"Shut up and kiss me, you idiot."

So Harry rocked up on his toes and Kurt ducked his head down and they brushed their lips together, just a little. Harry wouldn't describe it as fireworks, really - though maybe that was just because Harry had too many bad associations with things that looked like fireworks - but it was sweet and exciting and perfect, sending a rush of feeling from Harry's lips to the tips of his toes. It felt right and real and it only lasted a moment, just a touch, but it was enough to let Harry know that this was where he wanted to be; with Kurt, kissing Kurt, _loving_ Kurt. Kurt, ever the courageous one, was the one to press harder, slipping his soft lips against Harry's slightly rougher ones tentatively. Harry leaned forward, placing a hesitant hand on Kurt's impossibly smooth cheek. His small, calloused palms gently stroked the soft skin of Kurt's cheek, his other hand slipping up Kurt's neck to rest gently on his hair. Kurt's hand were resting gently on Harry's chest, the smaller boy's racing heartbeat under his fingertips. Harry's whole body was tingling, rushing adrenaline pumping through him like it had when he was on stage. His magic was singing in his veins from the first touch, and building as their lips continued to brush together. It was like they were suspended in time, just the two of them in this new, confusing, exciting world. This illusion was shattered by Puck's dry voice.

"'Bout fuckin' time."


	12. Chapter 11

(A/N: Next chapter, and the drama continues.

**IMPORTANT:** My grandmother is in hospital. The doctors say she has a few days, tops. I'm taking shifts with my family at the hospital until she passes. The only reason I'm getting this chapter up is because most of it was already written, and it may be a while before I can post the next one; probably a little over two weeks. I'm sorry for the delays, but I need to be with my family right now. I'm actually not even at home, I'm staying with my mum because it's closer to the hospital. Thank you for your understanding and patience.)

* * *

As Harry pulled away from Kurt with a jump, the room erupted into applause. Rachel was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, beaming through happy tears, and Tina seemed to be filming it on her phone. Artie wolf whistled when Harry caught his eye, and Finn was grinning widely. Harry felt his face flush and he turned back to Kurt, who was approximately the colour of a tomato.

"I'm going to be honest, I had totally forgotten you guys were there," Harry admitted, making a ripple of laughter slip around the room. Kurt's was fighting a smile.

"I didn't," he shrugged a little, suddenly shy. "I just didn't want to break the spell."

"Oh my God, you guys!" Mercedes suddenly rushed forward and pulled both boys into a hug. Behind her, Harry saw Rachel offering a bleary eyed Mr Schuester a tissue and smiled. _They really want Kurt to be happy._Mercedes pulled away and scowled at Harry fiercely, poking him in the chest. "You had better treat my boy right, Potter. You're gonna be asking him out properly now, right?"

"Of course," Harry rubbed the spot she poked, affronted. "I was going to, but we got a little distracted by being the evening's entertainment. How long were you all watching for, anyway?"

"Pretty much the whole time," Mercedes admitted without shame. "We knew something big was going down when you nearly trampled Artie trying to get to Kurt -"

"Wait, I did what?"

"But we'll give you your space now," she finished by grabbing Kurt and kissing him on the cheek, whispering something in his ear that made him giggle, before pulling back and bellowing. "Shows over, people. Let's let the little lovebirds have a bit o' privacy."

The group laughed a little, but dispersed to their own conversations. Mr Schuester caught Harry's eyes and gave him a proud smile, making Harry duck his head. Kurt grabbed a slightly shell-shocked Harry's hand and pulled him to a corner, sitting delicately on the make-up bench. Harry slipped up next to him. He looked down at their still entwined fingers and felt a smile creeping onto his face.

_This is it. What's been missing. I've been able to touch him and not have it mean anything but... the meaning is what I need._

"I'm sorry it took me so long to work out that I had feelings for you," he murmured, gently stroking his thumb across the back of Kurt's hand near reverently. Kurt gave a little chuckle, still grinning.

"It's okay. I get it," he was staring at their clasped hands too, sighing a little happy sigh as Harry's thumb caressed his soft skin. "I was happy to wait. I've been crazy about you for some time, Harry Potter."

"I missed everything," Harry sighed, idly lifting Kurt's hand to play with the long fingers in between all of his. "Or I saw it, and couldn't work out why; the knowing looks everyone kept exchanging, the way Hermione and Ron were so shocked when I called you just a friend, the physical sensation of touching you making me dizzy... your skin is so _soft_..."

"I moisturise like a crazy person," Kurt giggled when Harry made a non-committal noise and continued to brush his fingers over the silk-like skin. "So are you going to ask me properly or not?"

"Hmm? Oh, right," Harry dragged his eyes away from Kurt's hands to his hopeful face. He couldn't help the slightly goofy grin that spread across his face as the familiar warm rush of slightly-more -than-affection (which he could now identify as infatuation) spread through his body. "I have to admit, I don't really know how one actually asks this."

"Then let me," Kurt suggested, clearing his throat and pulling both Harry's hands into his. They were wearing matching goofy expressions when he dramatically asked. "Harry Potter, would you kindly do me the honour of attending my house for a date tomorrow night, and allowing me to call you my boyfriend?"

"That would be a yes and a yes," Harry's grin was tugging at his scars and hurting his face, but he didn't care. He just leaned forward and pressed a short, chaste kiss to Kurt's lips, leaving them tingling pleasantly and Kurt with a silly grin. "Augh, why did I take so long? I'm a moron."

"No, you're not," Kurt rolled his eyes and squeezed their entwined hands. "And since I didn't point it out earlier, as I was more interested in kissing you than _breathing_, you're neither ugly nor a midget. You're gorgeous."

Harry shot him a disbelieving look but shrugged, "I'll argue with you later. Right now I'm too happy."

"Me too!" Kurt actually squealed, and dropped his head on top of Harry's. Harry resumed his exploration and admiration of the soft skin on Kurt's hands as the taller boy sighed happily. "This day has been so amazing. My first solo goes perfectly, the performance was spectacular and we have a real chance against the competition, and now my amazing best-guy-friend who I've had a huge crush on for months wants to date me. Now we just have to win and it will be perfect."

"We don't need to win," Harry shook his head. "Glee club won't end no matter what, I promise you that, and winning isn't the point here. We'll work something out if we lose. I think we've got a shot, though. You deserve it all on your own. I'm pretty sure half the audience was in tears, and not the bad kind."

Kurt buried his head in Harry's hair, and Harry could feel the heat of his blush against his ear, "I don't know about that, but I'd like to think so."

"_Think so_."

"Stop that, my ego is already out of control," Kurt giggled softly as Harry turned his hands over to trace the lines of his palms. "Are you reading my palm?"

Harry thought of Trelawney and shuddered, "God no. I knew a fortune teller in the UK. She was a bloody loony, told me I was going to die soon every time she saw me."

He thought for a moment, then sighed sadly, "Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I outlived her. I'm not sure if she fled the country or died, but she disappeared."

Harry felt Kurt's soft hand on his face, tilting him towards the taller boy - his _boyfriend_. Kurt's expression was sympathetic, and Harry made himself smile and kissed Kurt again, just a brush of lips at the corner of the boy's mouth, "I'm okay, don't worry about it. Just think about our trophy."

"Mmm," Kurt hummed happily. He looked across the room and giggled. "Looks like we're not the only one's having our own personal love-in."

Harry looked over the room, and grinned. Sure enough, Rachel and Quinn were sitting in Finn and Sam's laps respectively, whispering and giggling as their boyfriends watched them with doting gazes. Mike and Tina were flat out snogging in one corner, as were Santana and Brittany in the other. They'd only been official since Artie and Brittany's break up a few weeks before, but they hadn't been able to keep their hands off of one another since. The only three not paired off were Mercedes, Artie, and Puck, the former two chatting to Mr Schuester and the latter sulking in a corner. There were no police officers actually in the room, due to the fact that it barely fit the 13 of them, but Harry knew they were stationed at the entrance to the dressing room corridor and all around the theatre. Harry turned back to Kurt with a curious look.

"When did you work out that I had feelings for you?" he asked, tracing a pattern onto the back of Kurt's hand with a rough finger. "Other than 'before I did,' I mean."

Kurt shrugged a little. He slipped off of the bench to stand in front of Harry, in between the smaller boy's legs.

"I suspected from your first day of school, but only because I wasn't used to people being nice to me," he admitted with a little blush, blushing a little darker when Harry leaned forward to press their lips together a little. "I get now that you're just a very affectionate person, but almost no guys ever touch me so I thought you were flirting."

"Really? I wasn't at all - not consciously, at least."

"Well, I thought you were. Then I thought that you were straight because you weren't reacting to me trying to flirt back," Kurt pouted a little at that, and Harry leaned in to kiss him again. When they broke apart Kurt was grinning. "You just can't keep your lips off of me, can you."

Harry blushed but grinned back, "Hey, kissing you is awesome and I have to make up for all the time I wasn't kissing you for. Kissing you is way better than kissing the one girl I ever dated."

"Well kissing you is better than kiss the one girl I ever dated," Kurt teased, leaning in to kiss him sweetly again. Their fingers were still intertwined on Harry's lap, and Kurt smiled down at them when he continued. "I started suspecting that you might be discovering that you were attracted to guys when you started talking about my eyes when I was doing your make up."

"I think that's when I really started thinking about you, too," Harry admitted, thinking back to the confusion he'd felt at his own reactions. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot!"

"Quit putting yourself down," Kurt scolded. He cuffed Harry across the back of the head like he always did, and Harry just smiled and ducked into the action. "Honestly, you weren't ready to acknowledge that part of yourself yet so you didn't. Now you are, so you did. Tada! No dramas."

"No dramas," Harry echoed with a smile. "That'll be new."

Whatever Kurt was about to say in reply was interrupted by a knock on the door. Mr Schuester frowned, and nervous glances were cast around the room. As much as everyone tried to keep in high spirits, the threat of the stalker was always in the backs of their minds. Quinn in particular went pale and tightened her grip on Sam, who shifted so he was between her and the door. A quick burst of magic let Harry know that it wasn't any danger to them waiting behind the door.

"Hello? Is this the New Directions change room?" Hermione's muffled voice slid around the closed door.

Harry smirked as he heard Ron mutter, "New Directions, that sounds suggestive," and hopped down off of the bench, holding on to Kurt's hand as he said, "It's okay, Mr Schuester, it's just Ron and Hermione, my friends from England. I have no idea what they're doing backstage, though."

Mr Schuester's face relaxed and he unlocked the door. Harry found himself quickly engulfed in a cloud of frizzy hair as Hermione launched herself into his arms with a squeal.

"You were so great!" she trilled, pulling back with a beaming smile. "Merlin, Harry, you looked amazing up there! I knew you could do a little acrobatics but with the dancing and the singing - you were fantastic!"

"Also, completely alone on the stage," Ron quipped. Hermione punched him in the shoulder without looking back, ignoring his protesting "ow!"

"Of course they were all wonderful, but I'm obviously biased towards Harry and no one can blame me for that," she rolled her eyes, then shot the room a slightly sheepish smile. "Hello! I'm Hermione. Sorry for bursting in like that, I got a little over excited."

"She ploughed down four elderly women to get here," Ron added helpfully, wincing when Hermione punched him again.

"Idiot. This is Ron, we're friends of Harry's from England," Hermione addressed the room with a friendly smile. "You were all wonderful, by far the best. If you don't win it'll be a travesty. We'll get out of your way in a moment, we just had to -"

"No, _you _just had to. _I _was happy to wait."

"Shut _up_, Ronald. We just wanted to congratulate Harry and Kurt. Speaking of, Kurt!" she launched herself at the pale boy, throwing her arms around him. "You were so good! I was bawling the whole way through, it was so sad but so beautiful! Harry told us you could sing, but that was amazing."

"Thank you!" Kurt hugged her back, grinning smugly when she pulled away. "You were right, by the way. He just needed a little time."

Hermione's face lit up even further, and she looked between Harry and Kurt with a hopeful smile, "He worked it out?"

"He worked it out."

She squealed and clapped her hands, "I knew it! That's wonderful. We should leave you to your waiting and your afterglow and get out of here."

"How did you get in here?" Mr Schuester asked warily, smiling weakly when Ron and Hermione turned to him. The rest of the Glee club, most of whom had returned to their own conversations, looked over when the teacher spoke. "The police are meant to be guarding the doors and not letting anyone through."

"They're not very good at it," Ron informed him with a shrug. "We just said we were friends of people in New Directions and they let us through."

"Unbelievable," the teacher muttered, reaching for his cell phone. At Hermione and Ron's startled looks, he rushed to reassure them. "Look, I'm not mad that you're here, I totally understand you wanting to see your friends, but there has been someone trying to hurt members of our club and if they let _you _through..."

"Wow, your security sucks," Ron surmised, looking around the room thoughtfully. The glee clubbers were exchanging worried looks again, but Harry shot Ron and Hermione a subtle shake of the head when they looked at him curiously; he'd sensed no danger. Mr Schuester sighed.

"Don't worry, guys, I'm going to call the head of security and sort this out," he assured his club, smiling at the bashful looking Ron and Hermione. "I should probably be thanking you two. If you hadn't come back here, we never would have known security was so slack. Feel free to stay, we still have probably another half an hour until the judges are ready."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured softly. She looked around the room at the teens again, smiling when she caught Finn's eye. He grinned back as Rachel asked, "So you two flew here all the way from England for Sectionals?"

"That and because Harry's managed to get himself on a hit list two months after arriving," Ron shook his head and shot Harry a teasing look. "You have an amazing capacity, mate."

"This one is not my fault," he insisted. "This has been brewing since before I was around. I take your point, though. I think two months before I locate some drama is a record for me."

"I know, right?"

"I meant what I said, your performance was excellent," Hermione was telling Rachel, turning her body to include Kurt in the conversation. "You're Rachel, right? Harry's described all of you."

"Yes! I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I'm Rachel Berry," Rachel stuck out her hand and Hermione shook it firmly. "This is my boyfriend and Kurt's almost-step brother, Finn Hudson."

"A pleasure to meet you both. I'm Hermione Granger, and the red-head idiot behind me who's drooling at the two girls kissing is Ron Weasley."

"I'm 17, give me a break."

"Harry, why don't you introduce us around?" Hermione suggested, looking over her shoulder to where Kurt and Harry were holding hands. The wizard nodded.

"Sure. You've met Rachel and Finn, that's Quinn and Sam next to them. Mike and Tina are the two over there, and that's Mercedes and Artie. Santana is the brunette kissing-girl and Brittany is the blonde. Puck is the boy with the mohawk who is checking you out rather blatantly."

"I'd noticed him," Hermione said dryly, pursing her lips in displeasure as Puck unashamedly smirked and winked at her. Rachel tutted.

"Don't be inappropriate with our guests, Noah."

"This isn't me being inappropriate. If I were being inappropriate I would tell her that I -"

"Do not finish that sentence," Harry shook his head. Hermione looked more amused than offended, but she had little tolerance for 'boy's bullshit' as she called it. "Seriously, Puck. She will break your arm."

"It's true, I've seen her do it," Ron confirmed. "That poor drunkard didn't know what hit him."

"He shouldn't have tried to peek up my skirt," Hermione sniffed, straightening her cardigan. "And I didn't break his arm. I dislocated his shoulder."

Puck raised an impressed eyebrow, "That's hot."

"Tread lightly, little boy. I'm happy to demonstrate if you get disrespectful."

"Noted."

"You know," Kurt whispered into Harry's ear, distracting him from watching in amusement as Hermione bounced between chatting to Rachel and humouring Puck and Ron struck up a conversation with Artie and Mercedes about the stalker, juggling four water bottles as he talked. "As much fun as your friends are to watch, it's been a few minutes since you kissed me..."

Harry grinned and turned back to the boy, pressing his lips against Kurt's briefly. He felt giddy, high on adrenaline and joy. A huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders; that confusion that had dogged him for weeks had cleared and in it's place was a clever, funny, beautiful boy with eyes that changed colour depending on the light and a singing voice that could break hearts. Now he had Kurt in his arms and Ron and Hermione were close enough that he could hear their familiar voices chatter, backstage with New Directions and all of its dramas he felt like he was home. _Bring it on, stalker. I'm not letting you take this family away from me._

Mr Schuester nearly took Harry and Kurt out with the door when he burst back in, and the room jumped as one. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye both Ron and Hermione reach for their hidden wands - they didn't have the level of magical awareness as him. The teacher gave the two boys an apologetic look before turning to the group at large.

"Hey, guys, we can relax. Security has been beefed up so no one else is getting in here without ID," the group sighed in relief, and Kurt shot Hermione a grin at her slight blush. "Ron, Hermione, I think people are starting to go back into the theatre, so you should probably head out."

"That was fast," Ron commented from behind Mercedes, slowly teaching her to juggle. "Didn't they say it would be about an hour?"

"Yes, but one of the judges got an emergency call and had to run out. They rushed their decision through. It was announced over the loud speaker, I guess you guys couldn't hear it," he grinned at the group as Rachel squealed. "This is it, guys! You ready to win?"

"Yes!" they cheered, and Hermione flew over to Harry to hug him and Kurt together, pecking both of them on the cheek quickly and saying, "Break a leg!" into their ears, before ducking back to grab Ron and drag him out, informing Puck that her number was on his phone before the two English kids slipped out the door. New Directions lined up and filed out of their dressing room, joining the Dalton boys in the corridor to the stage. Kurt's fingers were entwined with Harry's as they found themselves stuck next to the Dalton's lead in the cue. He smiled when he looked at Kurt, and managed to avoid reacting too much to the scarring on Harry's face when he caught sight of it.

"You were New Directions' soloist, weren't you?" he asked Kurt politely, smiling a charming smile. Kurt blushed but nodded, shooting Harry an excited look.

"Yep, that's me!" Kurt tugged Harry closer by his hand when Puck jolted him accidentally, and the boy's eyes latched onto their linked hands. For a split second Harry expected him to sneer or stop talking to them. Instead, the boy's grin got wider and his eyes returned to Kurt.

"You were really great. I'd never heard a male version of that song but you totally nailed it," the Dalton boy enthused. Kurt beamed in pleasure and Harry squeezed his hand.

"You were great too," Harry told him softly with a gentle smile. The boy's eyes slid back to him, and the wizard was impressed when he didn't even bat an eyelash at the scars (_and only his second glance, too. This kid is good_.) Kurt nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, you were so much fun to watch! I was almost dancing along with you," Kurt gushed, and Harry added,

"I can confirm that, and so can the parts of my face his elbow kept colliding with."

"Oh, shut up, you. It's not my fault your face is at elbow height."

"Bite me."

The Dalton boy laughed at their easy banter, his eyes crinkling with endearing joy. He stuck out his hand for Kurt to shake, "I'm Blaine, by the way."

"Kurt," Kurt took the boy's hand and shook it firmly, before gesturing to Harry. "This is my boyfriend, Harry."

"A pleasure," Harry held out his hand, smiling both at Blaine's lack of hesitance to shake his hand and at Kurt calling him 'boyfriend'. The Dalton boy looked between them curiously.

"McKinley is a public school, right?" he asked, wincing when both other boys nodded. "I used to go to public school. It wasn't fun being an openly gay kid in one. Is McKinley a more tolerant place, or...?"

"Oh Gaga, no. I get three death threats a week and thrown into dumpsters daily," Kurt shook his head emphatically. He seemed a little surprised that Blaine had just casually admitted his sexuality, but covered it with a toss of his head. "At least, I used to get thrown into dumpsters. That's stopped since Harry started there. Mostly because they last time they managed before he got to school, he threw _them _in. All of them. Into the same dumpster. Two at a time."

"I'm stronger than I look," Harry shrugged at Blaine's wide eyed stare. Kurt giggled and pressed an adoring kiss to Harry's cheek, apparently just because he could.

"So if you're willing to share, I guess Dalton is more tolerant?" Harry asked Blaine as the group shuffled forward. It was taking a while to get the elderly group onto the stage, so they weren't moving very fast. Blaine nodded.

"They have a zero-tolerance for bullying policy," he confirmed. "It's why I transferred there. It's way better than getting called a fag every day."

"Being called a fag is worth it if I get to wear Alexander McQueen and Gucci every day," Kurt shuddered a little. "I think having to wear a uniform would kill me."

"I'm pretty sure you wearing the same shoes two days in a row is a sign of the Apocalypse, let alone an entire outfit," Harry agreed, shooting Blaine a wry look. The Dalton boy laughed a little.

"A bit of a fabulous dresser then, are we?" he teased gently. Kurt flashed a grin.

"The most fabulous there ever was. Right, Harry?"

"Totally."

The stage hands started motioning for quiet, so Kurt just gave Blaine a friendly smile and a wave and joined the rest of New Directions, Harry following behind him. The groups finally filed onto the stage, Dalton in the middle and New Directions on the left. Mercedes grabbed Kurt's free hand and started to squeeze it, and Harry found himself with Artie clinging to his other arm. He subtly checked to see where Quinn was, wary of attack, but she was tucked in next to Sam and Puck, looking excited and nervous, but not scared. The tense energy in the air made it crackle with dormant magic, and Harry looked to the crowd for Ron and Hermione. He quickly spotted their familiar magical signatures next to Remus', and grinned in that direction. He didn't really listen to the judge talking about how wonderful they all were, and how they were all winners (the man reminded him of an older Gilderoy Lockhart, and that was never a good association). He only really tuned back in when "And now, our winners."

The groups tensed in one movement, Harry's hands going numb in Kurt and Artie's tight grips. Rachel was nearly hyperventilating, and Harry could hear Finn muttering 'oh my god' over and over under his breath, eventually silenced by a smack across the back of the head from Puck.

"Firstly, our runners-up - and it was very close - The Dalton Warblers! That makes McKinley High's New Directions today's winners!"

Harry's face stretched into a grin so wide it tugged his scars as New Directions started screaming. He looked over his shoulder at his friends. Finn had picked Rachel up and was swinging her around. Puck was doing something similar with Artie. Tina and Mike were hugging Mr Schuester, who had his arms around them and a huge smile on his face. The cheerleaders were all jumping up and down, Quinn with her arms around Sam's shoulders, and Mercedes and Kurt were hugging and screaming. The latter pulled away for long enough to pull Harry into the embrace, and Harry found himself with his face mashed against Mercedes' chest in a rather uncomfortable way. He yanked himself away with a blush just in time to see Rachel and Mr Schuester go up to grab the trophy. Puck dropped Artie back into his wheelchair and they all moved forward as a group, still cheering. Harry looked to Ron and Hermione in the crowd. They, like most of the audience, were on their feet. He waved at them, then found his hand court by Kurt and tugged closer to the boy. Kurt's face was bright and ecstatic, and Harry couldn't help but tug him into a hug.

_This feels as good as winning the Quidditch Cup, no question._

He felt soft lips against his cheek and he felt a jolt of delight tingle through him.

_Way better. Way, way better. _

Rachel dragged Kurt off of him to hug him herself, still screaming loud enough to hurt his ears. He just laughed and hugged her back, managing not to buckle under the force of Puck pounding on his back before picking Tina up and spinning her around. He didn't even know how long they were on stage for. It was a blur of excitement and happiness, pouring themselves back into the change room and proceeding to group hug and cheer. Harry was pressed in between Puck and Kurt, the latter of whom kept shooting Harry hopeful glances until he got the hint and kissed him. Mr Schuester interrupted a few seconds later.

"Guys, guys! I would like to say a few words," he laughed when the group half groaned and half cheered, Santana jokingly catcalling. "Yes, yes, I'll keep it short. I just want to say how proud of you all I am. We've all been under a huge amount of stress in a terrible situation, and you kept it together anyway. You were all amazing - Kurt, just brilliant, girls, great entry on the second song, Mike, Harry, your acrobatics were perfect. If we can keep up this standard to Regionals, I think we've got it in the bag!"

The group cheered again, and the teacher raised an apologetic hand to quiet them, "Now I know you're all riding high on this, and that's great, but we still have to be careful. I know Kurt's planned a party for tonight, and there are going to be cops circling the block, but be careful, alright? Look out for one another."

The gathered kids let out a subdued agreement, exchanging looks. Mr Schuester sighed, "Sorry to be a downer, guys, but you need to hear it. Now, get out there and meet your adoring public!"

Another cheer went up, but it was more subdued than the last few. Harry quietly packed up his things, trying to calm his adrenaline rush so he could be properly aware of any danger. Kurt and Mercedes were discussing the party the boy had planned, something about a colour scheme and hor dourves that made no sense to Harry at all. Mercedes hurried off as soon as her things were packed away, but Harry stuck by Kurt's side to help him clean up his makeup. The wizard listened as Kurt chattered about ideas for Regionals, and smiled when he saw the faint blush on Kurt's cheek when Harry took his hand before they walked out the change room door.

He didn't even know how long they were on stage for. It was a blur of excitement and happiness, pouring themselves back into the change room to grab their stuff then into the foyer to greet the crowd. Kurt tugged Harry by his hand over the Burt and Carole, Remus, Ron and Hermione standing nearby. Kurt only let go of Harry's hand to fling himself into his father's arms. It was just in time, too; Harry was soon busy with an armful of Hermione.

"You did it!" she squealed into his ear. "You won! You deserved it, Harry, you really did, you guys were so great."

"Congratulations, Prongslet," Remus held out his arms as soon as Ron pried Hermione off the smallest wizard, and Harry hugged him. "You were all fantastic. I'm proud of you."

Harry felt a happy pang at the words - they weren't something he'd often heard in his life. Remus pulled away and squeezed his ward's shoulders, "Is anyone throwing a party? If not, we can have it at ours. I've cleaned up."

_Meaning: there isn't any magical paraphernalia lying around._

"It's all right, Mr Lupin," Kurt assured him, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Carole with a smile. "I've got one planned. Everyone is heading over in a little while."

Harry nodded, "Sorry, didn't I tell you? I could have sworn I mentioned it."

"Maybe you did, you know what my memory is like," Remus laughed a little, and smiled at Kurt. "Congratulations on both your win and your solo, Kurt! I was very impressed."

"Thank you!" Kurt and Burt both puffed up with pride at his statement, and Carole smiled proudly. Harry felt a shiver of pride go through him for his friend's - _boyfriend_'s effort. It was followed by a shiver of warning.

His head snapped around to scan the room. He could see Rachel and Finn talking to her dads a few feet away, and Artie being kissed by his grandmother. He saw Sam and Tina and Mike and Puck. He didn't see Quinn. His magic screamed.

_Danger, she's in danger, find her, help her!_

"Where's Quinn?" he asked aloud, cutting off something Burt was saying. Ron and Hermione were instantly on their guard; they knew that Harry knew that something was wrong. The three magical teens started slipping through the crowd, Remus not far behind. Kurt started calling for other New Directions members.

"Have you guys seen Quinn? Is she with her mom? Puck! Do you know where Quinn is?"

Harry sent out tendrils of magic to pinpoint the danger, heading towards the vague direction he had. The warning spiked. There was a gunshot. Harry ran.

The crowd was screaming and stampeding away from the noise. Harry's brain snapped into battle mode without him even realising it, making dodging the screaming crowd easy as he sprinted towards the sound and the warning.

_Seven exits, all blocked by fleeing people. Stampede effect - police can't get over, people trampled, chaos. Defence against muggle weapons; simple._

Another shot rang out as Harry approached entrance of the hallway that lead to the bathrooms, Hermione and Ron hot on his heels. They fought their way through the crowd, rounding the corner to the hallway, Ron getting dragged backwards by the crowd.

_Priority: Quinn. Secondary priority: stopping shooter. Don't sense pain or death - not hit? Talisman protected her. Find Quinn. What - that's her!_

Harry skidded to a stop as Quinn sprinted from the bathroom hallway and barrelled into him, tear-streaked and sobbing, but unharmed.

"Quinn!" Harry shouted, beginning to pull her away from the danger, pushing her behind him. He scanned the area and didn't see anyone with a gun, or anyone at all. The hallway must have cleared as soon as shots started firing. The girl just sobbed and pointed a trembling finger at an open fire exit before flinging her arms around the boy's shoulders, shivering and weeping. Harry held her tightly, watching Hermione sprint out the fire exit with a determined expression. Ron reached Harry and Quinn at the same time a police officer that Harry recognised from school did.

"Are you hurt?" the police officer urged the two kids, his own gun drawn and pointed at the floor. He looked around the area. "Where is the shooter?"

Harry nodded towards the exit, "She went that way, Hermione chased after her."

The police officer swore and reached for his radio as he made for the door. He nearly bumped into a red faced and panting Hermione, who shook her head, "Her car was idling outside, she's gone."

"You shouldn't have chased her, she was armed," the police officer scolded Hermione, then spoke briefly into his radio. Harry could feel the danger passing, his magic settling back to wariness. Hermione jogged back to them, shaking her head at Ron's quiet question - she hadn't gotten a good look at the shooter. Harry turned his focus back to the girl in his arms. She was almost hyperventilating through her sobs, and Harry rubbed her back and tried to sooth her.

"Shh, it's okay, Quinn, you're safe now," he whispered, looking around for her mother or Sam, even Mercedes. The room was almost clear, a few people still screaming and trying to get out. Remus and the Hummels were being held back by a few police officers, and Harry could see Mr Schuester trying to get back inside against the crowd. A few more cops swooped over and took off down the stairs, Officer Price stopping at the crying girl and Harry.

"There's an ambulance on the way, are you injured?" he asked the girl, shooting Harry a questioning glance at the same time. Harry shook his head.

"She isn't hurt and neither am I. The shooter must have missed."

"She didn't!" Quinn gasped, pulling back and looking at Harry with wild eyes. She clung onto his shirt with clenched fists, urging him with hysterical words. "She pointed it right at my head and pulled the trigger! It just - I was fine. She shot right at me and I'm fine! Oh my God, she tried to kill me, she nearly killed me, how could she? Why would she? Oh my God-"

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay. I guess gun must have been jammed or something," Harry shared a glance with Ron. We got those talismans done just in time. Quinn didn't seem to hear him, letting him go to grab Officer Price's arm.

"I saw her, I know her. It was Mrs Schuester - ex-Mrs Schuester, Mr Schue's ex-wife. I knew her, I know her, how could she try to kill me? Where's my mom, I want my mom-"

"We'll find your mom, she probably just got swept outside with everyone else," Officer Price soothed, reaching for his radio. "You're sure on that ID? Schuester, did you say?"

"Yeah, Terri Schuester," Quinn confirmed, her voice high and hysterical. "Or that was her name. They divorced last year. Oh God, where's my mom?"

"I'll go ask Kurt to look for her," Ron offered, starting to jog back towards the still restrained families. He briefly spoke to Officer Price. "I'll come back and give a statement if you want me to, but I didn't really see much."

Harry passed Quinn to Hermione - for all his talents, comforting crying girls wasn't one of them - and listened carefully as Officer Price spoke into his radio.

"No injuries here, the girl targeted is okay. Officers in pursuit of the shooter, I'm staying to help find the girls' mother."

"Quinn!" a frantic voice shouted. Quinn's mother was rushing over to her daughter's side, Kurt and Ron following behind her. Most of the members of New Directions were being hustled back inside by police officers with their families now, and sirens could be heard outside. Officer Price motioned for Harry and Hermione to join them. Hermione wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as they went to join the group, shaking her head a little.

"That was too close," she murmured, and Harry hummed his agreement. "If we hadn't made the talisman..."

"I know," Harry frowned, still observing the room with a soldier's eye. "Quinn would be dead and we wouldn't know who was after us. Trust me, I know."

_She could have died because I wasn't aware enough. Stupid stupid stupid...__  
_  
"Would you all gather around, please?" a detective shouted as Hermione and Harry slipped in next to a pale Remus. Harry quietly accepted the Calming Drought disguised as a medication bottle from his guardian, leaning behind him to drink it. The adrenaline high would wear off soon; he didn't want to be unmedicated when it did. The detective waited to speak to Officer Price, nodded and discussing something with him quietly before turning back to the huddled group. "Is everyone here? Are we missing anyone?"

"Mike and Tina aren't here," Artie spoke up, his voice worried. There were frightened whispers around the group before Santana pointed to the door.

"They're coming in now, they're okay."

"Okay, we'll just wait until they're over here. Did anyone get hurt in the stampede? There are a few ambulances on the way to treat minor injuries."

"I got knocked out of my chair," Artie admitted. "But Puck picked me up before I could get squashed. I'm still pretty bruised, though."

"By dose is bleedig," Brittany whimpered, her father holding a reddening handkerchief over it as her mother stroked her hair while holding her little sister. A few more minor injuries were admitted to; Puck had a black eye, one of Rachel's father's had hit his head against the doorframe and Santana's mother's lip was split. Everyone was bruised and battered and frightened, clinging to family and friends. Harry, Ron and Hermione just stood quietly in a line, the former looking at Remus with a furrowed brow, "Remus, how many Ca - pills did you take?"

Remus looked at him with unfocused eyes, "...three?"

Harry sighed, "You're going to be no help."

"Merlin, he really is a bit of a wreck, isn't he?" Ron muttered, raising an eyebrow as Remus stared off into space. Harry sighed.

"He really needed some space to relax, instead he's had this to deal with," the tiny wizard shook his head. "He tries so hard."

"Can I have your attention, everyone?" the detective quieted the group, sighing when he took in their pale, tear-streaked faces. "Quinn Fabray is unharmed, it seems that the gun may have jammed."

There were relieved sighs and mutters at this, and the detective continued regardless, "She got a good look at the shooter and has made a definitive ID. In regards to that - which one of your is Will Schuester?"

"I am," the teacher spoke up from behind Finn, his brow furrowed. The detective beckoned him forward and spoke to him in a quiet voice. "Sir, Quinn identified the shooter as your ex-wife. Do you know what name she's using now?"

"What - Terri's doing this?" Mr Schuester's voice carried across the group, and an uproar started. Parents were shouting furious questions and trying to reassure confused teens, while some of the teenagers were looking to Mr Schuester for answers. The police attempted to get control of the situation in vain, while the three magical teens watched with raised eyebrows and open mouths.

"Wow, they are not very good at this," Ron commented quietly, exchanging an unimpressed glance with Hermione, who nodded.

"Maybe I'm just biased because I'm used to magically enhanced, professional crowd control, but this is pathetic," her lip curled as one of the police officers ran off for backup. "Honestly, what were they thinking, telling the teacher like that?"

"To be fair, these are small town cops," Harry pointed out, wincing when he saw a frantic Kurt trying to calm a furious Burt. "Most of them have probably never dealt with anything worse than an armed robbery after the fact. They aren't used to crisis's like this one."

"I can't just watch this," Hermione muttered. "Ron, back me up, would you? Hey!"

Ron let out a shrill whistle, much like Harry did when Finn had been missing. The group reacted to it, quieting enough that Hermione could be heard over the noise.

"Hey, listen up! You need to be quiet so the officers can actually answer your questions. I know you're upset and frightened, but this isn't getting us anywhere," Harry tried not to smirk as Hermione shouted her orders._ Oh Merlin, she sounds just like she did when she bossed us around in first year! _"Mr Schuester, what was your ex-wife's maiden name?"

"Delmonico," he stammered, eyes wide and face still pale. Hermione nodded.

"So there's the name you're likely looking for," she informed the detective. She addressed the group as a whole again. "Just stay calm and listen closely to the officers, okay? They'll tell you what you need to know."

"Who the hell are you?" Puck's mother demanded, clinging to her young daughter with stiff hands. Hermione just stared her down.

"Someone who has dealt with these sorts of situations before," was her response. The detective used the quiet that followed to speak up.

"The young girl is right. I need you to listen to me so we can sort out the best way to protect your kids," the parents shuffled and mumbled darkly, but the group remained quiet enough for the police to take control. "The shooter has been identified as Terri Delmonico. At this stage we don't know whether she's the stalker as well - "

"She blamed Glee for our separation," Mr Schuester broke in, running a shaking hand over his forehead. "Said that if I'd never started leading it I wouldn't have left her. A slender Caucasian blonde, I should have made the connection-"

"Why didn't you?" Santana's mother demanded, rounding on the teacher. "This crazy bitch has been trying to kill our kids and you didn't think to tell the cops that your ex had a grudge against them?"

"I didn't think of it!" he protested as parents muttered angrily. "She's never had a violent bone in her body, and she hates confrontation."

"Yeah, but she's crazy," Puck pointed out, shrugging when a few people looked at him. "Hey, I had to work for that nutjob. She was, like, crazy intense, and I think she kinda wanted to do Finn."

"What?" the named boy yelped, and Puck nodded emphatically.

"Dude, I'm serious, she was creepy into you. And when you didn't get it she moved onto me," he shuddered. "I actually turned her down. You know how rarely that happens? She was weird."

"Well, she was who Quinn says she saw," the detective interrupted. "Now that we know who to look for, it shouldn't take us too long to find her. However, it may mean that she's desperate in the meantime. We need to make sure you're all safe. We'll post an patrol car outside of all your houses every night until this is over."

"Are their enough cops in Lima for there to be a car at every house?" Artie asked, raising his hand nervously. When the detective and Officer Price exchanged worried glances, the group erupted into angry shouts once again. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Bloody incompetent - HEY!" the group quieted again at her shout, and she smiled. "Thank you. Why don't some people stay together for a few days? Harry has three large guestrooms, for example."

"It's true," he confirmed, torn between exasperation and amusement that a 17-year-old tourist was doing better than the Lima police force at calming the frightened crowd. "We have three free king-sized beds, and our security system is excellent. We'd be happy for a few people to stay."

Puck's mother brightened and quickly spoke up, "Noah, Sarah and I can share one big bed, if we can?"

"Sure, that's fine," Harry assured her. The group once again started talking, this time more calmly, discussing staying over arrangements. The police looked relieved, and Hermione shook her head at them.

"Bloody incompetents, honestly," she sniffed, and Ron snorted.

"Yeah, good think they had you around to tell them how to do their jobs, eh?" he nudged her playfully, and she looked a little bashful.

"Oh, bite me, Ronald. I knew what I was doing."

"Of course you did-"

Harry got jolted out of watching the bickering when he felt a soft hand on his arm. He looked over to find Kurt staring at Remus with a concerned look. The wizard winced.

"He, uh - took a little too much anti-anxiety medication," Harry cringed at the deeply unimpressed look Kurt then shot his guardian, who was still happily staring at the wall. Kurt didn't comment, just sighed and turned back to the smaller boy and pulled him into a hug.

"You scared the hell out of me when you ran towards the shots," he mumbled into Harry's ear, pinching his arm roughly. Harry slipped his arms around Kurt's waist, feeling a guilty twinge at the thought of frightening the other boy.

"I'm sorry, but I needed to get to Quinn," he pulled back and looked up into Kurt's expressive eyes. "Do you and your family want to stay with us?"

"We've already got the Berry's staying with us, sadly," Kurt sighed, scowling. "I'm going to have to share my bed with Rachel."

"Why isn't Rachel staying in Finn's room?" Harry wondered, lacing his and Kurt's fingers. The boy raised his eyebrows. Harry blinked. "What?"

Kurt giggled a little, his cheeks flushing pink, "You're so adorable."

"Thank you, I think," Harry cringed as he saw Puck's mother approach Remus. "Ma'am, don't bother. He can't hear you. What did you need?"

"I just wanted to get your address," she told him, looked at Remus with raised eyebrows as the man started to hum. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Just ignore him," Harry gave her his address as Kurt whispered something to Hermione that made them both giggle. He shot them both a curious look which was dismissed with a wave from Kurt. Harry just shook his head.


	13. Chapter 12

(A/N: Thank you for all your well wishes. It was a hard week for me, but I managed to get a little writing done in between funeral arrangments and babysitting cousins and the like. I think it actually took my mind off things a little. We sat with her for three days. My grandmother passed away on Saturday, 14 May 2011. The funeral was the following Thursday. I sang Amazing Grace and cried a fuckton. But it's over now, I'm back at home, and this chapter was only really two days late. I hope it was worth the wait. There will likely be two-three chapters after this.)

* * *

Five minutes later there was more order. It had been arranged that Quinn and her mother and Mercedes' family would go to a hotel to be watched by the police. Tina and Mike's families were staying at Tina's, the Berrys were staying with the Hummel-Hudsons, Brittany's family was staying with Santana's and the Abrams, Evans, and Puckerman families were all staying with Harry. It was arranged that the groups would go home in their cars rather than the school bus, and police would escort each family to their own homes to grab some overnight supplies, then to whichever house they were staying in. Harry gave Kurt a chaste kiss goodbye and promised to call him that night, prompting an "Aww" from Carole and a growl from Burt, then led a still stoned Remus to their car. Hermione and Ron trailed after him, quietly whispering about transfiguring or hiding anything magically incriminating. Harry swiped the keys from Remus' hand before he could get in the driver's seat and shoved him into the back of the car. When he turned the car on and caught sight of the clock in the dashboard, he groaned.

"Is it seriously only three in the afternoon?" he sighed at Hermione's sympathetic look from the passenger seat. "Merlin's beard. I feel like it's been about six hours since I was on stage."

"It's actually only been about one hour, sweetheart," Hermione reached out to pat his hand when he let his head hit the steering wheel. "Come on, put your foot on it. We need to get the house clear of anything magical and get Ron and my stuff into your room."

"Not to mention transfigure the sofa into a fold out bed, since you said you had one," Ron added helpfully, shrugging when Harry glared at him. "Just saying."

"I swear to God, my life..." Harry dragged himself back to the back of the seat. "Right, I'm done bitching. Most of the magical stuff is already hidden, Remus hid it in case I wanted to have people over after Sectionals - which I still can't believe happened _today _- so all we have to do is move your stuff, transfigure the sofas, and put Remus to bed. Let's go be useful."

"So you and Kurt, huh? It's about time," Hermione commented as they pulled out of the parking lot. Harry snorted.

"Tell me about it. I can't believe I didn't work it out," he shook his head as he pulled into traffic. "I guess it's been awhile since I've been able to think about crushing on someone."

"But you are crushing on him?" Hermione prompted, and Ron stuck his head through the gap in the seats to peer at him closely. Harry felt his face flush.

"Oh yeah. Definitely. He's - yes, I am."

"He's what?" Ron teased, fluttering his eyelashes. "He's perfect? Beautiful? A god among men?"

"Yes, yes he is, don't mock me," Harry stuck out his tongue at Ron as they stopped at a set of traffic lights. He sank back in his seat and sighed happily. "I don't even know. He's just - so brave and compassionate and smart and funny, and I already knew he was so I don't know why it didn't occur to me that he was perfect and I should date him. I don't even really know what dating _means_. I mean, I've never had a girlfriend or boyfriend and neither have either of you so I don't know what I'm doing at all, but -"

"The light has been green for a while now, Harry."

"Crap! I'm going!" Harry jumped back into focus, hitting the accelerator and peeling away from the lights, shooting a guilty glance into the rear view mirror. Luckily there wasn't anyone behind him. He sighed. "You couldn't have told me a little sooner, Hermione?"

"I was distracted by your gushing," she informed him archly as Ron snickered. "Well, we suspected for a while. You talked about him in your letters and calls all the time."

"You really did, I think I know him better then I know some of my friends," Ron added, grinning at Harry's blush. "Hey, can we tell him about the Pants Thing now?"

Hermione giggled, "Sure, go on."

"Yes, please do," Harry added, shooting them an annoyed glance out of the corner of his eye. "I really don't know what that's about."

"Okay, so a few days before we came out to Ohio, we were on the phone with you when it was late at night here," Ron explained eagerly, leaning further forward so he was practically climbing into the front of the car. "You were, like, falling asleep into the phone, mate, and we decided to have a little fun with you."

"Oh, hush, Ronald. We were only messing around," Hermione rushed to reassure Harry with a guilty smile. "It's just - we noticed that you were almost asleep but you were still responding to questions..."

"So we - and I swear Hermione started it - asked you questions about Kurt," Ron started snickering when Harry groaned. "I think the first question was, 'Hey, Harry, what colour are Kurt's eyes again?' and you told us that they were 'bluey-greeny-pretty coloured and the most beautiful eyes in the world.'"

"Oh God."

"It gets better - probably worse from your point of view, but I thought it was brilliant - because then I asked you if you would like to kiss Kurt. You said, 'his lips are so pretty. He has pretty lips.'" Ron's raised his voice in an approximation of Harry's dreamy answers, making Hermione laugh and Harry flip him the bird. "So Hermione asked you - tell you what, Hermione, you be us, I'll be Harry."

"Okay. Ahem - 'is Kurt a good singer?'"

"'His voice sounds like angels and butterflies and pretty things.'"

"I did not say that!"

"You so did, you said all of these things, now shut up," Hermione cleared her throat. "'Is Kurt a good dancer?'"

"'He moves his hips and then I feel funny.'"

"Oh Merlin..."

"Yes, we enjoyed that one. 'What do you think of Kurt's clothes, Harry?'"

"'They're weird but pretty, 'cause he's pretty.'"

"And here comes the moment of truth," Hermione left a dramatic pause. "'What colour trousers-'"

"'They call 'em pants here, they're pants.'"

"What colour pants has Kurt worn every day since you first met him?"

"Red...white...black...black...blue...white...green...skirt...red...black...white..."

"You proceeded to list every colour of trousers that Kurt had worn to school since the first day you met him," Hermione informed him gleefully as Harry blushed so dark he felt like his cheeks would bruise. "You reached day 26 before you finally fell asleep for good and we were laughing too hard to keep you on the line."

"Goddamn it," Harry sighed as Ron and Hermione chuckled. "Even my subconscious knew more than me."

There was a pause as Ron and Hermione calmed down. Harry smiled reluctantly, "In my defence, his trousers are pretty memorable."

"Did he really wear a skirt?" Hermione asked curiously, no judgement in her voice. Harry nodded.

"Yes, though he called it a kilt. It didn't go down very well with the boys at the school," he sighed, remembering how he'd had to knock Karofsky to his knees in order to be taller than him and intimidate him. "I thought it looked quite nice, actually."

"I'll bet you did," Ron leered.

"Oh, shut up, Weasley."

The nearly two-hour trip took far less time for them than it did for any of the other gleeks. Hermione told them to pull in at a store and - briefly checking for anyone specifically watching them - cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on the car. They sped back to Lima as fast as Harry was comfortable driving, their combined magic helping the car to jump over other vehicles and obstacles. It would have been fun if it hadn't been so dangerous and necessary. ("And illegal," Hermione had added when Ron mentioned it, shaking her head. "We won't get away with this in America if we get caught, not like we would in England.") They got to Harry's house within an hour, Hermione removing the charms from the car as soon as the garage door was down. They roused the sleeping Remus ("Bloody Hell, how did he sleep through that?" Ron wondered) and Ron half carried the man inside, Harry helping tuck him into bed. Hermione and Ron quickly took their things out of their guestrooms and moved them to Harry's room. Hermione spelled the sheets clean, and charmed a few cloths to dust, but with Remus' compulsive cleaning being what it was there was very little to do. Ron and Harry tried to work out how to transfigure the couches in the living room to fold outs, eventually having to look up what a fold up looked like on Harry's rarely used computer. Quite soon the house was clean and the guestrooms were set up. Harry transfigured a ramp so Artie could be wheeled into the house, and the three teen wizards spent a little time chasing down the enchanted vacuum cleaner, which had taken on a mind of its own and was flying around the house. Harry was sweaty and stressed by the time the Evanses pulled up in the back of a police cruiser. The smaller wizard slipped out of the house to greet them, shooting Sam a tired smile as one of the police officers looked around suspiciously.

"Hey, Harry," Sam greeted with a wave, before allowing his mother to hand him a suitcase. Mr Evans took a step forward and offered Harry his hand.

"I didn't thank you for your kind offer before, Harry," the man said by way of greeting as Harry took his hand. He was a decidedly average man, about Sam's height with brown hair and light eyes, utterly unremarkable. He reminded Harry of a Privet Drive resident, and the wizard tried not to be swayed by the association._ He's probably perfectly nice. Bet he's an accountant, though._"Thank you so much for opening your home to us."

"It's no problem," Harry assured him, eyeing the large box of food Mrs Evans was passing to a startled police officer. "We're happy to have you, and this makes it safer for everyone."

"You're so right!" Mrs Evans burst out, hurrying over to where Harry was talking to her husband and handing another bag to the other police officer on the way. She looked like she had stepped out of a magazine or movie; her blonde hair (bottle, if Harry had to guess from Kurt's tutorials on picking it) was coiffed to perfection, her makeup looked professionally applied, and her clothes were bright pink and stylish. She kept talking as she scurried over, waving a perfectly manicured hand at her husband. "Go grab the other bags, George. They won't carry themselves. Thank you, Harry, wasn't it? I hope we won't be too much trouble, I brought our own towels and sheets and groceries. Does the room you've mentioned have its own bathroom? With a bath? I like to have a bath every night, you see, and I like privacy when I do. Is the house clean? I can't stand the sight of dust, it's filthy. Oh, listen to me rabbiting on, we should get inside! Harry, would you grab this bag for me? I just had my nails done."

"Not a problem, Mrs Evans," Harry bit back a grin at Sam and his father's mutually mortified expressions. "Come on, why don't I show you where you can put your things?"

"Thank you."

Harry took another bag out of Mrs Evans' hands - _Good grief, how long are they planning on staying? How did they pack all this up so fast? - _and led the family up the stairs to the first guestroom, the one that Hermione had been staying in. As Mrs Evans cooed over the stylish decor, Harry directed the poor police officers as to where they could relieve their burdens - Harry was sure they hadn't expected to be turned into pack mules when they dropped the family off. Sam slipped out of the room with Harry when the wizard left the family to unpack and get comfortable, his tanned cheeks red.

"I'm sorry about my mom, Harry. She's a little pushy sometimes," the blonde boy whispered. Harry stifled his urge to say, "A little?"

"It's okay," Harry assured him instead, reaching the bottom of the stairs just in time to see Hermione waving the police officers outside through the front door. "Hermione, any idea what's going on with the guard?"

"They're going to wait until the next group arrives, then leave," she informed him, smiling at Sam as she shut the door. "Hi, Sam. Has Harry shown you the fold out?"

"I was getting to it!" Harry protested when Sam shrugged and shook his head. "Geez, 'Mione, they've only been here for a few minutes."

"Well more people are going to be coming in soon so you had better get organised," she rolled her eyes when he stuck his tongue out at her. "Very mature, Harry."

"I try. We'd better move fast, I think the next car is here."

Over the next few hours the guests settled in. There were a few issues that had to be dealt with, namely Mrs Evans' numerous and increasingly outrageous demands, getting Artie around the multiple level house, and Puck's little sister having more energy than a Cornish Pixie. The three magical teens delegated themselves automatically; Harry ran off to grab "Those extra ramps from the garage", quickly Transfiguring several mostly unused tools into planks of wood, Ron and Puck attempted to coax little Sarah out of the ventilation system ("Come on, Sar-bear. Come out of there." "No! I'm a rat! Ih-ih-ih-ih-ih!"), and Hermione ran around to try and sooth Mrs Evans ("Oh, don't you have a leather couch somewhere? I prefer to sit on leather, you see, it's so much more comfortable." "...no. This is the only couch we have." "Well, that's not very good, is it? Can't you go and pick up a leather couch for me?" "...").

Dinner was an exhausting event; Mrs Evans had a huge list of food she didn't eat, and the Puckermans had to keep kosher (although Puck whispered to Harry that their observance usually depended on his mother's mood - she'd probably ask for bacon tomorrow.) Mrs Evans and Mrs Abrams got into an argument about the tablecloth that nearly ended in tears, and Puck's mother kept hitting him over the head for hitting on a still-amused Hermione. Then Remus had wandered down and nearly had a heart attack when he had seen how many people were in his house, and Harry had had to dose him again and carry him back to bed with Ron, leaving Hermione to pry the fork out of the ceiling where Puck's little sister Sarah had somehow managed to wedge it with a flick of a wrist ("Noah taught me how to do that!"she had informed Hermione proudly, making Puck blush and Mrs Puckerman look murderous.).

After dinner Harry and Ron had cleaned the kitchen as Hermione showed the various guests back to their rooms, showing them how to work the televisions therein and listening to Mrs Evans prattle on about her bathroom at home. By the time the three wizards collapsed into Harry's bed into a row, they were dead on their feet. Sam and Artie had a couch each downstairs, their parents taking the beds in the guestrooms, and all three Puckermans squeezed into the king-sized bed in that room (although they could hear Puck's sister jumping on it instead.).

"This house is a little overfull," Ron commented dryly as they listened to the pipes turn on in the next room. Harry nodded, his eyes shut.

"I think I am dead," Hermione's voice was light. "And I think that I want to take Mrs Evans with me. If she'd told me anymore about the shades of the tiles in her bathroom, I might have killed her."

"It amazes me that Sam is such a nice guy, with a mother like that," Harry agreed. "I would be a serial killer."

"I wanted to start cheering when Mrs Abrams jumped down her throat when she started bitching about the quality of the table cloth," Ron added, flinging one arm over his eyes and squinting. "It's too bright. Can we go to sleep yet?"

"It's only 8.30," Hermione pointed out sadly, rolling onto her side and flinging an arm around Harry's waist when she hit him. "We should probably try to get some work done on Mercedes' talisman, particularly if she's now next on the list."

Ron groaned and Harry shook his head, "It can wait until tomorrow. They're weaker if you aren't focused. I say we get a good night's sleep tonight and worry about that tomorrow. The police said we shouldn't go to school, anyway, what with the stalker - Terri Delmonico, wasn't it? She has a gun now, we shouldn't tempt her to bring a weapon like that to a school."

"That's a good point," Hermione yawned, jumping a little when Harry's phone buzzed on the other side of the room. A Lady Gaga song started playing on the tinny speaker, and Harry summoned the device with a wave of his hand. Kurt's name was on the screen and Harry grinned, suddenly energised. He sat up as he raised the phone to his ear, knocking Ron and Hermione to the side accidentally as he did. He shot them an apologetic look as he answered.

"Hello?"

"Can you afford to get me a really good lawyer when I kill Rachel?"

Harry laughed at the deadly seriousness in Kurt's tone, "Absolutely. Why are you going to kill Rachel?"

"She's taken over half my bedroom and scrunched up about $4000 worth of Gucci and Prada to make room for her argyle and animal print," Kurt ground out, his voice little more than a furious hiss. "It took both Finn and Carole holding me back to stop me from strangling her."

"Tell you what, I'll pay for your lawyer if you do kill her, but if you manage to let her live I'll let you take me shopping," Harry suggested with a grin. Kurt 'hmm'ed into the phone.

"Deal," he said eventually, letting out a frustrated burst of breath. "But all bets are off if she scuffs any of my shoes. They're worth more than she is."

"Fair enough," Harry laughed a little, ducking the pillow Ron had thrown at him without looking. "Murderous impulses aside, how are you doing? It's been a long day."

"I know," Kurt sighed, and Harry heard a noise that made him guess that Kurt had just flopped down onto his bed. "It started out so well! Then all of a sudden it turns out ex-Mrs Schuester a) has gone even crazier than she was before, b) owns a gun, and c) is trying to kill us. It's all crazy. And I have Rachel Berry living in my room! Today sucks."

"It had its good parts, too," Harry felt his cheeks heat up as the blatantly eavesdropping Hermione giggled. He stammered. "I mean, your solo and the performance. And the kissing, I guess. I - I mean, I liked that part too."

"So did I," Kurt said quietly, and Harry could hear the blush in his voice. Hermione let out a loud, 'aww' and Harry flipped her the bird, clambering off the bed and leaving his room; _now where can I go for some privacy? _Kurt seemed to have used the pause to think, because when he spoke again in was in a nervous rush. "When I introduced you to the Dalton lead I called you my boyfriend. I know you said yes before, but - is that what you want to be?"

"Yes," Harry responded automatically, his heart feeling like it was fluttering a little. "I really do."

"No second thoughts or regrets?" Kurt asked, a nervous edge under his flippant tone. Harry smiled a little as he stepped out onto his front porch, waving at the police officers in the driveway.

"None," he said firmly. "I really like you, Kurt. Even though I have no idea what I'm doing and it took me the better part of several months to work it out, I really want to be with you. How about you? Have you realised that you're too gorgeous and fabulous for Frankenstein's Midget Monster?"

"You know, I will sneak out of this house for the sole purpose of hitting you," Kurt threatened. "No, I have no regrets or second thoughts about dating the _extremely attractive _boy I have been crushing on for _months_. Particularly one who'll kiss me in public but didn't try to stick his tongue down my throat right away."

"Yeah, that sounds a little beyond my capabilities. And knowledge," Harry admitted, scratching his forehead as he wondered how (and why) someone would try to stick their tongue down someone else's throat. He cleared his throat and admitted. "That was my first kiss with a guy."

"Mine too," Kurt's smile was audible through the telephone line, and Harry grinned. "And it was perfect. Thank you for making my first real kiss everything I always wanted."

"You're more than welcome. It was pretty awesome for me too," Harry ducked his head a little, even though he knew no one was watching him. "It sucks that we don't have school tomorrow, really. I want to see you."

"I know! I want to see you too," Harry could hear Kurt pouting. "Not to mention that I finally have a boy who's willing to walk down the hallways holding my hands and we're not even going to walk down the hallways for Gaga knows how long!... you would, wouldn't you?"

"Would I what?" Harry asked curiously, sitting on the front step with his legs tucked up underneath him. Kurt stammered, making Harry furrow his brow..

"Hold my hand. I didn't ask you - I mean, if you didn't want to come out for a while that would be fine, we could just pretend we were still just friends at school-"

"What? No, of course I'll hold your hand!" Harry nearly yelped. "I _want _to do all that stuff with you. I _like _holding hands with you. It's nice."

"And you don't mind people knowing we're together?" Kurt asked trepidaciously. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but pretty much everyone already thinks that we're together," he snorted, resting his head against the railing of the stairs. "We link arms everywhere we go and do everything together already. I'm still trying to work out the difference between being friends like we were and dating apart from kissing, but I didn't really have a lot of reference."

"Well, we'll do things like go on dates and do stuff together," Kurt tried to explain, his voice awkward. Harry blushed a little at the subtle implications behind Kurt's words. Kurt's voice cut back in suddenly. "Oh, not stuff like - I didn't mean - I meant _out to dinner_ and the like, not... but if we're dating - Oh God, I guess I don't really know either."

"So... we'll work it out together?" Harry suggested. Kurt's voice was wry.

"I should dump you for using a cheesy line like that at all, but yes. We will," Kurt suddenly let out a growl at a noise behind him. "Rachel, I'm talking to Harry, can you go away? We can watch Chicago later...stop 'aww'ing, you. It's not that - _no we are not having phone sex. _Get out of my room!"

Harry choked on a laugh at Kurt's indignant shrieking, wincing when he heard a loud thump, indicating that Kurt had just thrown something at Rachel.

"I don't _care _if you're sleeping in here tonight, I'm trying to talk to my boyfriend and that's really hard to do when you're standing there yammering at me... yes, it's adorable that I have a boyfriend, stop saying, 'aw' or I'll destroy you. Oh my Gaga, shut up. I'm sorry about this, Harry."

Harry nearly jumped when Kurt spoke directly into the phone again, his voice exasperated beyond belief, "Carole taught Rachel how to use the coffee machine, so she's made about a 100 cups and drank most of them herself. You think normal Rachel is loud, she has nothing on hyper Rachel."

"That sounds terrifying."

"It kind of is. How are things over there? You have nearly half the club staying with you, don't you?"

"Just the Abrams, the Evans, and the Puckermans. It's fine, though Sam's mum is a little... she's hard work. I'm impressed by how level headed Sam is, actually," Harry glanced back at the house to make sure no one was eavesdropping, and lowered his voice. "She's a freakin' nut case. She was complaining that my tablecloth didn't have a high enough thread count at dinner. Mrs Abrams nearly tore her head off."

"Huh. All the Berrys have done is talk. I can see where Rachel gets it from, they're both just as bad as her. They make me look quiet and stoic. And masculine," Harry grinned at Kurt's put-upon sigh, picturing the boy flicking his fringe the way he always did when he disapproved of something. "I suppose it could be worse. Where is everyone staying in your house? I know you have a big place but that's, what, nine people staying with you?"

"Plus the four of us who were already here," Harry agreed. "Sam and Artie have a fold-out each, and each of their parents are sharing a double bed. Puck and his mother and sister are in another. Ron and Hermione are staying in my room."

"Like, all in the same bed? Isn't that a tight fit?" Harry could hear Kurt briefly tell someone in the back ground to 'shut up and put down the Vogue, they might catch fire just being held by you', and answered with laughter in his voice.

"Yeah, but we manage. We've done it before in smaller beds. Be nice to Rachel, it's not her fault she's as high as a kite."

"On the _contrary_. Remind me never to take her to Starbucks. What's your plan for tomorrow, since we have no school? I think I'm going to treat myself to a nice long bath as a reward for not killing Rachel - Rachel, if you spill any of those lotions I will destroy you. You don't want to use them anyway, they aren't vegan friendly."

"Probably just cater to Mrs Evans' whims," Harry snickered when he heard an outraged shriek in the background, Kurt's frustrated sigh ringing in his ears. "I get the feeling that will take up most of the day. If I have time I'll try to make Mercedes a good luck charm, maybe see if I can get the police to take it to her."

"Well, Quinn's obviously worked. She was so lucky the gun didn't work," Kurt agreed fervently, and the background went quieter. "We've been lucky a lot, actually. Lucky that you found Finn so fast, lucky we guessed where Rachel would be, lucky you saw the car and I could get to Puck in time, lucky the gun didn't work... It's almost enough to make me believe in divine intervention. It doesn't, but - you know. Almost."

"Mmm," Harry made a non-committal noise. _It wasn't luck or divine intervention. It's just a little bit of magic. If I hadn't been able to sense Finn and close his wounds, or find Rachel, or protect Quinn... Puck was mostly Kurt, though. Kurt and luck that I saw the car. Wow, sucks to be Delmonico. If there wasn't a wizard here she would actually have succeeded with at least three. No wonder she's getting desperate._

"Harry?" Kurt's voice was uncertain in his ear, and Harry started.

"Sorry, Kurt, I got lost in thought," Harry rubbed his face. "It's been a long day."

"Oh, okay. I just thought - " Kurt paused, and his words rushed out. "We've never really talked about, you know, religion or spirituality or whatever, and I just wasn't sure whether my total and utter lack of faith might... upset you."

"No, not at all," Harry assured him quickly, noting that there was no sound coming from behind Kurt now. _Rachel is probably eavesdropping_. "I'm not religious either. I've never even set foot in a church or anything."

"Oh, good," Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "I mean, I wouldn't mind if you were, but when Mercedes and Quinn realised I didn't believe in God things were... weird for a while. Quinn kept trying to convert me."

"Really? Weird. I don't disbelieve in God or anything, I just don't really... believe?" Harry squinted into the darkness, trying to put his thoughts to words. "I just - I've seen some crazy things. Things that people would say are impossible."

_I've flown on a 'mythical' creature. I've knocked someone out with a word and a flick of a wand. I've fought a dragon, argued with mermaids, and talked to snakes. I've seen plants that cry and trees that slap people and paintings that insult you if they don't like your hair._

"I don't have any real beliefs, I guess, I just think that anything is possible," Harry finished his thought with an idle shrug. "If people can survive falling from an aeroplane or lift a car off of a child, then who knows what is possible."

"That's a good way to be," there was a smile in Kurt's voice, but it was forced away by an exasperated sigh. "Sorry, Harry, but Rachel wants to talk to you. I'm putting you on speaker, okay?"

"Sure."

"Harry!" Rachel's voice near shrieked into his ear, and he jumped and pulled the phone away. He grinned when he heard Kurt's tired, "It's on speaker, Rachel, you don't have to shout," from behind the girl, and sighed in relief when she actually listened and lowered her voice. "Sorry! I just wanted to tell you that as I am a very close personal friend of Kurt and the Captain of New Directions I am highly invested in both his ongoing happiness and the cohesion of the group as a whole so I wanted to make sure you understood firstly that if you break his heart I will come down on you with the full force of the Ohio PFLAG and will write a scathing expose on you on my MySpace blog and secondly that any issue within your relationship will cause awkwardness and tension within the Glee club and so therefore you should think carefully about your intentions towards him and understand that if you're leading him on -"

"Oh my Gucci, shut up!" Kurt interrupted, and by the sound of flesh hitting flesh Harry guessed that he'd slapped his hand over her mouth to muffle her continued speech. "He's not _courting _me, he's _dating _me. You don't have to ask about his intentions."

"I could court you if you like," Harry suggested, only half kidding. "I mean, I would have to look up how but if that's what it would take..."

"You don't have to do anything but be yourself," Kurt assured him, and Rachel 'aww'ed in the background. "Oh, shut up. He knows how much I like him."

"It's nice hearing it, though," Harry admitted shyly, feeling his cheeks heat up as Rachel squealed and Kurt laughed nervously.

"I guess I'll just keep having to tell you then," Kurt's voice was cautious but pleased. "It's not really a - "

Kurt was cut off by a huge roar (_metal shrieking and the crunching of wood and the howl of rushing fire_) in the background. Rachel was screaming and Kurt cried out. Harry automatically jumped to his feet, his muscles tensing into battle mode. His mind flew back to England, to fire and screams and shrapnel. It was a noise he recognised all too well. _Oh Merlin. That was an explosion. **Kurt** –_

"Kurt! Are you okay?" the wizard shouted, already running back inside to get Ron and Hermione. He took the stairs two at a time, nearly knocking Sam down as he rushed passed. Kurt's voice was frightened and distressed in his ear.

"I'm fine, it was outside. The police car is on fire, it just - it blew up! Oh my God, _she's _here, Harry, I don't -"

"Stay inside," Harry urged him. His mind worked furiously, shocked out of his previous exhaustion and into action. _I have to get over there, I'll Apparate - no, no magic, too many questions. I'll drive, it's only ten minutes away, less if I speed, can't raise suspicions. There are lots of people over there, Kurt will be fine, just need to get over there in case..._Ron and Hermione looked up in shock as he burst into the room, not pausing to explain as he summoned his car keys into his hand, slipping his shoes on with magical aid. "She'll be looking for you, Kurt. Stay with your dad and stay inside!"

"But Rachel ran out to check on the cops, _she's _outside, I have to make sure she's okay!" Kurt protested, the sounds of shouts and screams almost drowning him out. Before Harry could protest he continued. "I'll just find her and get her back inside, Harry. I'll be fine. Don't worry, I'll stay on the line."

He seemed to lower the phone, maybe putting it into his pocket as he ran. Harry could still hear him calling for Rachel, asking someone if they had seen her and slamming a door. Harry turned to the now standing and ready Ron and Hermione and rushed through an explanation.

"Delmonico is at Kurt's, she set the police car on fire. Kurt is looking for Rachel, I need to get over there."

"Go, we'll explain to the police and everyone here and follow you," Hermione urged, pushing an already-running Ron out the door ahead of her. Harry nodded and ran downstairs, past a confused Sam ("Harry, what's going on? What did you just say about Kurt and Rachel?") and into the garage. _Lima police are hopeless but surely they'll already have the situation under control. Delmonico will be caught, they'll be fine. Just have to make sure she's not waiting for Kurt and Finn and Rachel... _He jumped into the car, putting the phone back to his ear when he heard Kurt calling his name.

"Harry? Are you there?" the boy sounded near tears, and Harry could hear Finn shouting something behind him ("Shit, shit, were they _in _there? 'Cause if they were there's no _way_ they're not dead. Where did Rachel go? Wasn't she just over there?"). Harry tried to sooth him even as his own heart rate picked up. _Fuck, are the police __**dead**__? I have to get over there. I can hear the fire, what if it spreads? What if it reaches the house? _

"I'm here, love. I'm on my way. Have you found Rachel?" Harry turned on the car and waved a hand at the controls of the garage door, wandlessly flicking it on and starting it opening. Kurt choked on a sob.

"No! I don't know - oh God, was that...? I think I just heard her scream, I'm going outside."

"Kurt, don't! Let the police help her, or her fathers," Harry urged, unthinking, backing out of the driveway much too fast and only narrowly missing the mirror on the police car parked there. Kurt shouted at him, fear and stress in every word.

"I think the police are _dead_, Harry! And everyone is running around trying to put out the fire, the grass is burning too - I'm outside, I'm going to get her."

"Fine, just stay on the line, okay? Leave the phone on no matter what so I can hear you. I'm on my way," adrenaline rushed through Harry's veins, his magic surging and heightening every instinct. _This isn't good, Delmonico is murdering bystanders now, she's capable of anything. Can't make the car invisible but can put a Notice-Me-Not on it, done. Faster, got to get over there. _He dropped his phone onto the seat next to him, but with a moment's concentration he could still hear it just as clearly as when it was by his ear. As he peeled off down his street he could hear Kurt shouting for Rachel, begging her to come back inside, voice strengthening from tearful to determined. Harry focused on that as he drove, the usually complicated actions becoming natural as he sunk in crisis mode. He could feel his magic enhancing his vision, his reflexes, clearing his mind and allowing him to strategize he drove. He listened carefully to Kurt through the phone, listening for danger as best he could.

"Rachel? Rachel? Come on, where are you?" Kurt's voice was high and distressed, but he kept calling for his friend. Harry noted that the sounds of shouts and fire were dimming, like Kurt was moving away from the house, and the wizard gritted his teeth. _Don't leave the area, Kurt, Delmonico might be waiting for you._"Can - Rachel! Get back over here, ex-Mrs Schue could be here!"

There was a pause as Kurt seemed to start running. Before Harry could feel relieved, Rachel's voice came through the tinny speaker.

"Kurt, don't! She's -"

"Shut up!" an unfamiliar voice snarled, and Harry's blood turned to ice. S_he has Rachel. She has __**Kurt**__. _He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he sped around a corner, tires screeching. He was doing way above the speed limit but he didn't care in the least. All that mattered was getting to Kurt. "Both of you, shut up! I've checked the gun, it'll work this time. You won't get lucky like Quinn."


	14. Chapter 13

(A/N: Second to last chapter (not including epilogue)! I hope this is satisfying enough for people. I've been quite sick this week, but I managed to get it to a point that I'm happy with. Thank you to everyone for your condolences, they were very sweet.

Just to a few points raised in reviews: I'm aware that there are Glee clubs in England and Scotland, but I figure that as Hogwarts obviously didn't have one and Harry had little to no contact with pop culture after the age of 11, he probably wouldn't have known it; or, if he had heard of it, wouldn't remember. There will be a sequal (though it may not be for a month or two), and several plot threads I've started here will be continued there. I started and planned out this story before Never Been Kissed, so plot threads like Rachel and Finn breaking up, Sam's family, Karofsky's subplot and the like are totally AU; I just didn't make room for them. I may deal a little with Karofsky, because I love his character, but other than that it's totally AU from then, with only the occasional connection.

Once again, thank you to everyone who reviews. I absolutely love you all, and it makes my day that much brighter when I see I have another one. Seriously, I check on my phone at least once an hour! Oh! And inbetween the end of Anonymity and the as of yet unnamed sequal there will be a couple of one-shots in this 'verse. The first one will be called 'Sexual Education (For the Borderline Asexual)'. I'm looking forward to writing that one XD.

* * *

"Oh my God, please don't hurt us, _please_..."

"Let her go, you crazy bitch!"

"I said **shut up**!" Harry gritted his teeth as Rachel whimpered and Kurt caught a breath. _Just do what she says, Kurt. I'm on my way. Nothing bad is going to happen to you._Delmonico sounded totally deranged, like Deatheaters sounded after a while in Azkaban, her voice tense but hysterical and her inflections slightly off. "Come on. We're going for a ride. Now. Get in or I swear I'll shoot you right in the fucking mouth."

"What happened to your other car?" Kurt asked her, and Harry's train of thought paused so he could listen. Kurt's voice was pointed, hard, like he was trying to tell Harry something._ Come on, Kurt, I can hear you. I can help you. _"This isn't the car from before, this is a _blue Ford_-"

"Shut up, you little freak!" Delmonico hissed, and Harry grinned a little as he listened to the doors closed. _Kurt remembered that I was listening. I know what car to look for. Come on, Kurt, give me more, but don't make her angry, just try... _"Just buckle up. We're going for a ride."

"Where are you taking us?" Kurt demanded, and Harry could hear Rachel crying close by. There were rustling noises near the phone - _it must be in his pocket, don't muffle it, Kurt_ - and Kurt's voice continued evenly. "This is a lot of effort. Why didn't you just kill us at my house and run? Why bother taking us _away from the house_?"

"Oh no, that's not enough," Harry slowed down for a red light and listened closely to the woman's rant, noting Kurt's words. _That's it, Kurt. Get a location. Maybe I can beat you there. _"I'm going to make sure it works, this time. You're going to die, you hear me? Just shooting you straight out - no, that's not enough. We're going back to where you fucking leeches ruined my life."

"The school?" Kurt guessed, and Harry flicked on his indicator, peeling off from the wrong lane the second the light went green, towards William McKinley High School. The woman laughed and spoke in a babying tone that reminded Harry of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Very good! Will must be so proud of you. His precious fucking babies, his fucking needy babies who he loved more than me," she laughed cruelly. "And guess what? You'll get to tell him how clever you were when we get there."

Rachel gave a terrified moan and Harry's gaze flickered to his phone. Kurt's voice was a surprisingly deep growl when he spoke, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" Delmonico snarled, and Harry could hear tires screeching in the background. "I would never hurt Will. I love him. I just told him to come to the school alone if he ever wanted to see his precious Rachel alive again. You're just a delicious bonus."

"Then you don't need both of us," Kurt pointed out, and Harry shot his phone a hard glance out of the corner of his eye._ Don't do anything stupid, Kurt..._"Let Rachel out. You can do whatever it is you're planning with me."

"Kurt, no," Rachel whimpered, echoing Harry's thoughts. Kurt ignored them.

"Come on, she's just going to be loud and in the way. It's her default position. Let her go. I'll go with you. I won't try to run or anything."

"Shut up," Delmonico snapped, and Harry dug his fingers into the steering wheel when he heard a smack._ Jesus, did she just turn to slap him while driving? The screeching tires point to yes. Maybe police will pick her up before she gets there. _"If I've got both of you, I want both of you. Will is going to see just how pathetic his precious club is."

"What are you trying to achieve, here?" Kurt demanded, and Harry silently willed him to stop making Delmonico angry. "You think that if you kill a couple of kids he thinks of like his own that he's going to go back to you? News flash, psycho, he's not as crazy as you are!"

"Shut UP! Oh my God, do you not remember who is holding the gun here? We're nearly there. You're going to stop talking and get out of the damn car, or I'll shoot your skank friend. Got it?"

"Fine, okay, just calm down," Kurt's voice was more subdued, and Harry tried to calculate how far away he was from the school._ Maybe three minutes. Have to slow down, don't want her to see me and panic. Disillusionment charm once I'm out of the car, walk softly._He slowed down when he heard a car door slam through his phone, and listened closely to Delmonico's mutterings.

"C'mon, c'mon, hurry up. We need to get inside."

"What are you going to do to us?" Rachel asked tearfully, and Harry winced when it made Delmonico snarl.

"I'm going to kill you, what do you think? We're going to scurry onto your precious stage, show Will just how pathetic the bugs he left me for are, you'll die, end of story."

"So we're going to the Auditorium?" Kurt confirmed, and Harry mentally cheered._ And now I have a location. I can't Apparate, I'm too loud still - I never did get the hang of doing it quietly. I'll park here and run under Disillusionment, that'll be safer. _He pulled over quickly and opened the door, grabbing his phone and charming himself unnoticeable before getting out of the car and running towards the school at the end of the street. He could still hear Rachel crying and Delmonico swearing in the phone, but he focused on Kurt's careful breathing to guide him, his world narrowing to one singular purpose; making sure that breathing continued.

He saw the car Kurt had described in the parking lot, and slowed to a silent jog as he approached the entrance of the school. The door was ajar; as Harry slipped through he noticed a piece of metal jammed against the handle, keeping it open and preventing it from locking. It was Kurt's cuff-link._ He jammed the door...? Merlin, this boy is smart. I wouldn't have thought of that._ He could hear muffled voices down the dark empty hallway, and slowly hung up the phone, hoping it didn't make a noise that gave Kurt away. He quickly sent off a text message to Hermione - "K&R taken. WM auditorium. 911" - before following the footsteps. Kurt's other cuff-link was on the ground a ways in front of him, and his blue silk scarf was on the doorknob of the entrance to the greenroom. _He's made a trail to their location. Brilliant._Harry ducked forward and looked through the window of the doors to the Auditorium, seeing Delmonico pushing Kurt and Rachel in front of her towards the stage. Harry thought quickly.

_First priority: safety of Kurt, Rachel, and possibly Mr Schuester. Second priority: concealing magic. Third priority: concealing skills. Fourth priority: apprehend Delmonico. Currently concealed magically. Six entrances to stage. Stay hidden, wait for the right moment. Side entrance safest, the one Kurt indicated, go._

He slipped into the side door that lead to the change rooms, leaving Kurt's scarf on the handle and running silently and quickly entering the green room. He slipped backstage, concealing himself in the shadows and dropping the charm on himself. _No more magic unless absolutely necessary._

Kurt and Rachel were kneeling on the ground, huddled together near the middle of the stage. Kurt had his arms around a still weeping Rachel, and was glaring at the ground furiously, casting his eyes around in a way that Harry recognised from war time; he was looking for an escape or rescue. The wizard felt proud of the non-magical boy; in a situation where most teenagers would be reacting much the same as Rachel he was keeping a cool head, doing everything he could to help a rescuer find them, but not playing the hero and risking their lives. Harry focused back on their kidnapper.

For the first time, Harry got a look at Terri Delmonico. She was thin, like the police had described, with dark blonde hair that hung limply around her face. The lines on her face were stark, and her eyes were sunken - it was the look of someone who had stopped taking care of themselves quite suddenly. She was dressed in black and armed with a hand gun, pacing at the front of the stage, her hands twitching as she muttered and tossed her head. She was watching the door, occasionally pointing the gun in the vague direction of Rachel and Kurt and making Rachel flinch. Harry crept towards the edge of the curtains, out of sight.

_Five point four metres distance between me and Delmonico at shortest point in pacing. Kurt is wearing talisman and will likely protect Rachel if the gun fires. Can throw a wandless Shield Charm if necessary, but will have to erase memories._

"Where the fuck is he?" Delmonico suddenly shrieked, actually stamping a foot. "Goddamn it, doesn't he know that I'm going to kill you? Maybe he doesn't care."

"Or maybe he doesn't want to walk into an obvious trap!" Kurt snarked, shifting Rachel in his arms. "Or maybe he told one of the dozens of police officers looking for you that you texted him."

"He won't, I told him not to," Delmonico insisted, compulsively checking the gun. Rachel whimpered and Kurt flinched when she snapped the chamber back into the weapon, and she laughed. "Aw, poor babies. Daddy isn't running in to save you, is he? Not going to make it in time to stop me from splattering his stage with your brains."

Kurt cringed and pulled Rachel closer to him as she sobbed. His eyes were bright with fear, but anger burned through behind it, keeping him together. The flamboyant boy was crouched, ready to move at a moment's notice, with Rachel more or less collapsed on top of him. Harry judged the distance between the two kidnapped teens and Delmonico. _Far enough, she keeps turning away. Jump out then, make sure she aims for me and not them. No magic. _Harry stalked forward towards the edge of the curtain that concealed him, easing himself through the shadows towards where Delmonico was pacing. His instructors' voices whispered in his ear.

_Timing is everything._

_If you're going to startle, protect the bystanders._

_It's better to get a slight injury than leave yourself off balance._

_Never stop moving._

Delmonico looked back to the doors of the auditorium, probably looking for Mr Schuester. The gun was pointing at the ground._ Now._

Harry leapt forward from the shadows. Rachel screamed as Delmonico swung around, raising the gun. She fired wildly. Harry's mostly dormant survival magic burst into life, and time slowed down.

He could see three bullets coming towards him as though through molasses, so slow he could see the air rippling around them.

_Duck and roll, third will graze but will put me in position to disarm her._

He tucked his shoulder down, only barely faster than the bullets, ducking his head and launching himself into a roll. His magic surged him faster than the area around him; he would look like a blur to people seeing the world at normal speed. He rolled, the third bullet still grazing his shoulder as he suspected it would, but he didn't flinch. The pain was minor, tiny compared to what he had felt before, tiny compared to what he would feel if he failed here.

_Get to the gun, knock her down. Stun her, don't kill her. Use your momentum._

His momentum pushed him forward, onto his feet, leaping from his crouch to grab Delmonico's wrist. The gun went off again, but upwards, shattering a light and making glass rain down onto the stage. Harry couldn't consider it, couldn't think about how it fall on Kurt and Rachel, on himself, on her. He just twisted the now screaming woman's wrist so the gun fell from her hand, catching it with his other hand so it didn't fire as it hit the ground.

_Get rid of it, don't let it fire. Off the stage, it won't be able to reach us if it goes off._

He threw it off the stage and ignored the thunk of it hitting the ground. He rammed his shoulder into her stomach, knocking her too the ground. He felt the crack as her wrist broke; he was still twisting her hand from when he'd disarmed her.

_Whoops_.

She fell back, and he hit her with a silent, wandless Stunning curse. It wouldn't have knocked out a wizard, rushed and weak as it was, but on a muggle it would work just fine. She hit the stage with a thump, Harry crouched over her and catching the front of her shirt so she didn't hit her head.

Three seconds from the moment he'd stepped out of the shadows, it was over.

Harry rose to his feet. Time rushed back to him, and he became aware of the blood on his arms from the glass that had fallen, the sweat on his face, the thump of his heart. He checked that Delmonico wasn't going to wake up (or die) before turning to Kurt and Rachel. The wizard's stomach dropped when he saw Rachel's eyes shut, her face pale and her head against Kurt's chest.

"Was she hit?" he asked Kurt hoarsely, rushing to drop to his knees next to the other two teens. He sent a scan through her, but Kurt confirmed what he found.

"No, I think she just fainted, oh my God, Harry," Kurt's mouth was trembling but he seemed unharmed, his hair clinging to his forehead and his eyes red rimmed. He reached up and caught Harry's hand desperately, and Harry reached across Rachel's prone form to press a desperate kiss to the side of his mouth. _So close, too close, nearly lost him, nearly lost them both... _"She went limp when the gun went off but I haven't been able to find any blood - Harry, I didn't even see you _move_."

"I've got good reflexes," was all he could say, sighing in relief and checking Rachel's pulse out of habit. His magic was settling down, still just buzzing underneath the surface but not completely carrying him like it had been. The danger had passed - now he just had to deal with the aftermath. "That was too close. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," Kurt shook his head, shifting Rachel in his arms and trying to shake her awake. Harry took the girl out of his arms as Kurt spoke in a tense voice, lowering her to the ground carefully and gently tapping her face. "It didn't even hurt me when she slapped me earlier. Usually I bruise when I brush past a branch, but I'm totally fine. And when the glass fell it just slid off me! I think Rachel has a few scratches, I covered her the best I could but it happened so fast..."

"It's okay, you did great," Harry soothed him, carefully brushing some stray glass from Rachel's clothes. "Really, Kurt, you did amazingly for someone with no experience in a crisis. You let me know where you were, you kept your cool, you left a trail... I never would have been able to get to you in time without everything you did. You were amazing."

"I didn't even see you move," Kurt repeated in a stunned voice, his eyes so wide they reminded Harry of Luna Lovegood's. "You just came out of no where and - it's really - you're really -"

Kurt seemed to cut himself off when Rachel whimpered, and both boys looked down at her with concern. She brought a wavering hand up to her face, but Harry caught it before she reached her eyes._ Best check for glass before it goes near her face. T_he feeling seemed to rouse her and her eyes slid open as she gasped, looking from side to side at the boys kneeling next to her.

"Where's - where's..." she slurred, trying to sit up. Kurt helped her as Harry spoke.

"She's unconscious, and probably will be for a while. It's okay, Rachel. It's over."

"Harry?" the girl's voice started to clear, and her vision focused. "Harry? Why are you here? Where are the police?"

"On their way, I expect," he assured her, leaning back and reluctantly letting go of Kurt's hand. "I asked Hermione to call them. I'd better go grab the gun, if she does wake up - which she probably won't - we don't want her to have it."

"We've got to get out of here!" Kurt exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He dragged a still slightly fuzzy Rachel up with him, and she stumbled. Harry leapt up to catch her before she fell, and Kurt looked at him with frantic eyes. "If she wakes up - "

"She'll discover that her wrist is broken and so are a couple of her ribs," Harry interrupted, steadying Rachel with one hand. "She's not going anywhere for a while. I hit her pretty hard."

Kurt huffed a nervous breath and looked over Rachel's shoulder at the unconscious woman, "Still, I'd rather wait for the police outside-"

"Wait, someone is coming," Harry caught Kurt's hand and tugged the boy behind him, motioning to Rachel with his other hand. As the girl scurried behind him he used his magic to enhance his hearing. The boy sighed sighed. "It's the police, we're alright."

Sure enough, moments later there were police bursting through the doors, shouting for Delmonico to freeze and looking startled to see the three teens unharmed and unimpressed instead. Harry and Kurt exchanged a glance as Rachel ran towards the door with a shriek, having spotted Mr Schuester just outside. It was over.

* * *

Three hours later found Harry sitting once again in the Lima Police Station waiting room next to Kurt, Remus once again asleep at his side. His shoulder had been stitched and bandaged by a paramedic at the scene at Harry's insistence - Kurt wasn't going to the hospital and he didn't want to leave Kurt's side. The wizard almost regretted it now, the deep sting of the bullet-graze pounding with his pulse, but he just gritted his teeth and kept glaring at the wall. Burt Hummel was this time sitting with them as they waited for Mr Schuester to finish speaking to the police. Rachel was being treated for shock at the hospital, while both Kurt and Harry had simply wanted to give their statements and go home. Terri Delmonico was in police custody at Lima General with a broken wrist and three broken ribs, courtesy of Harry's tackle.

Mr Schuester had comforted the kids on the front steps of the school while the police placed Delmonico (whom Harry revived as soon as the police were standing over her, much to their collective surprise) in the back of the ambulance under heavy guard.

"When I got the text I went straight to the police officers outside," the teacher admitted, rubbing a weeping Rachel on the back as she cried into his shoulder. "The text said not to, but what could I do against someone with a gun? I didn't want to risk you guys like that."

"You did the right thing," Harry had assured him quickly, squeezing Kurt's cold hand and letting the boy rest his head on the wizard's. "Honestly, it's a better idea to let a professional take care of it than try to play the hero."

Mr Schuester had shot him a wry look and shaken his head, "Just like you didn't rush in alone, right Harry?"

Harry shrugged, unrepentant, _I am_ _a professional._"I couldn't put the phone down if Kurt was going to let me know what was going on, and I couldn't just do nothing. I told Hermione to call the police, and it worked out okay. I knew what I was doing."

Kurt let out a little hysterical laugh, "I'll say."

He had then buried his face into Harry's hair, and he hadn't said anything else or pulled away until his dad screamed up in his car. Then there were statements to make and parents to reassure, police running to-and-fro and cell phones ringing endlessly as Gleeks tried to find out what was going on. Harry had had to give his statement with a social worker present because they hadn't been able to wake Remus up and he'd had to defend his decision to follow Kurt's leads rather than wait for police until he was blue in the face, but finally it was all done.

At the police station, after giving his statement, Kurt had finally broken down and cried in his father's arms. Harry had stood by nervously, wanting to help Burt comfort Kurt but worrying that he might be overstepping a boundary. His heart twinged to see the way Burt cradled Kurt protectively in his arms, tears of relief pouring down the father's face uninhibited, just too relieved that his son was safe. Harry had looked over at Remus at that point, to where the man was still asleep on the chair Ron had deposited him on before rushing back to Harry's place to help Hermione field calls from New Directions. The werewolf hadn't stirred, so dosed up as he was, and even if he'd been awake Harry knew that he would be comforting the man rather than the other way around. He'd caught Burt Hummel's eye over Kurt's shoulder in that moment, where his longing and sadness was shining in his eyes, and the man's expression was pitying. Harry had just looked away.

Kurt was very quiet as they waited for the police to tell them what to do, and he kept shooting Harry odd glances. Harry had initially attempted to make conversation, but after a few monosyllabic answers the wizard shifted uncomfortably and tugged on his fringe, not bothering to speak anymore. I_s he upset about me not calling the police, or that I injured Delmonico? Maybe he's just tired and scared, not everything has to be about you, Potter. He did just get kidnapped by a psychopath. Not everyone is as used to that sort of thing as you. _

A police officer dropped a phonebook, and Remus started awake at the noise. He blinked blearily and looked over at Harry. Harry raised an eyebrow as the man looked around the room, "...'arry?"

"Yes, Remus?" he sighed, rolling his eyes. Remus mumbled on.

"Where 'm I?"

"At the Lima Police Station again. Thanks so much for your help this evening, by the way."

"Oh...'kay."

The man's head dropped back to the seat and he started snoring again. Harry sighed. He jumped a little when he felt a gentle hand on his arm, and he looked over to a red-eyed, pale faced Kurt.

"How are you holding up?" the taller boy whispered hoarsely, before coughing a little. "Sorry I've been so quiet, it's just - it's all catching up to me, you know? We could have died tonight."

"I get it, it's fine," Harry caught Kurt's hand and squeezed it. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me. Are you okay? I mean, I know you're not okay, but is there anything I can do?"

Kurt smiled weakly, squeezing back, "I'm just going to need some time to... get over it, I think. Dad said he'll call a therapist in the morning, someone who's qualified to deal with trauma. Would you... like him to give you the number, when he finds one?"

"That's okay, I'll just write to my therapist in England," Harry frowned suddenly. "...why didn't I think of doing that earlier? Like, when all this started and I started freaking out? He said I could if I needed to talk. Damn it, I'm an idiot. But it's fine; like I said, you actually can get used to this sort of thing after a while."

Kurt winced sympathetically, then hesitated. He had a look on his face like he was dying to say something, but he glanced around nervously. Harry subtly angled himself towards Kurt so the boy could whisper to him easily, and Kurt caught the movement and smiled a little. He leaned in and practically breathed into Harry's ear, "Can you come to my house tomorrow, when everything has settled down? We need - I have something I need to tell you."

Harry pulled back to look Kurt in the eye, wary. Kurt noticed his expression and forced a smile, "It's nothing bad, Harry. I just need to tell you something. Can you come?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, his mind racing._ I have a very bad feeling about this. _Kurt turned back to his father then after another weak smile, and Harry was left alone with his thoughts and his unconscious guardian.

_What could he need to talk to me about? What if he is having second thoughts about us, now that he's seen how dangerous I am? What if he wants to leave Lima after everything that's happened? I can go with him if he does, as much as I like the other guys I want to stay with Kurt. Maybe it's nothing to do with that. Maybe there's something totally different, like some social faux pas I don't even know about that I've made and he's never going to speak to me again-_

Harry felt Kurt's hand slip into his, and his rushing thoughts slowed down. _Or maybe I should just relax and worry about that tomorrow, after I've slept and brushed the broken glass out of my clothes. Enough has happened today already._

A police officer approached them from behind the desk, and Burt and Kurt both stood up anxiously. Harry allowed Kurt to tug him to his feet with a grimace. He addressed Burt without sparing the two teenagers a glance, a triumphant look on his face, "I just got word from the officers at the hospital, sir. Delmonico has confessed to everything, and didn't have an accomplice. You can head on home; there's nothing more to be done tonight."

Burt sighed in relief and tugged Kurt under his arm, "You're sure she didn't have help?"

The officer nodded, "She explained how she did everything without it. It was just her and her mental illness. Your son should be safe now."

Kurt looked over to Harry from under his father's arm. He was smiling widely, with tears in his eyes. He was sniffling when he muttered, "Finally. Honestly, this has been the worst few weeks of my life for a long time."

When Harry shifted, the taller boy shot an apologetic look over his shoulder and amended it to, "With some bright spots, too."

"Thank you."

"You folks can go home whenever you like. We'll leave the officers outside your houses tonight, just to be safe, but you should be able to go back to normality tomorrow," the sergeant continued, ignoring the two boys. Burt nodded and reached out to shake his hand, allowing Kurt pull away to hug Harry. Harry slipped his arms around Kurt's narrow waist and squeezed back, pressing his head against Kurt's chest next to his heart. The thump was comforting against his ear, and he felt a little disappointed when Kurt pulled away. The taller boy bent his head to whisper into Harry's ear.

"You'll come over tomorrow?"

"I will. About 10 okay?"

"In the morning? No, make it noon. I need to sleep for at least 12 hours to make up for the last few. Dad-" Kurt looked over his shoulder at his father, who was on his cell phone. When Burt covered the mouthpiece and raised an eyebrow, Kurt continued. "Sorry. It's just - can we wait for Mr Schuester? I don't think it will be long, and I really want to see him before we go."

"Kid, tonight we can do whatever you want," Burt said gruffly, before turning back to his call. "Carole? Change of plans. We're going to be a while longer..."

Harry tugged Kurt back to him impatiently, snuggling up against his chest again and smiling when he felt slender arms wrap around him. Kurt giggled a little and dropped a peck to the top of Harry's head.

"My little cuddle-junkie," he quipped, his voice warm and affectionately teasing. Harry pulled back for long enough to stick his tongue out at him, then dropped his head back against Kurt's chest. He felt his own tension melting away for a moment, but his relief stopped when he heard Kurt's hesitant voice against his hair. "I really want this, Harry. I want to be with you. That's not what tomorrow is about, okay? It's something else. Okay? Don't worry. It's okay."

Harry tensed for a moment, and paused. _The amount of 'okays' in that sentence make me nervous. Is he lying? No, he wouldn't lie. But if he's telling the truth than what could it be about? What's wrong?_Kurt's heart thumped against his ear, the solid, steady beats soothing him again, "Okay. I trust you."

Kurt pulled away again, but before Harry could be disappointed he was leaning down and pressing his soft lips against the wizard's chapped ones firmly. Then he was running towards Mr Schuester as the man exited a conference room and throwing his arms around the teacher, leaving Harry with tingling lips and a faintly worried feeling. Harry caught Burt's eye as Kurt talked to Mr Schuester in a hushed voice, and blanched when he saw the considering look in the man's eye. Burt raised and eyebrow at him and folded his arms.

"You dating my son now?" the man asked gruffly, and Harry winced at the veiled threat in his tone.

"Yes, sir," he confirmed, glancing at Kurt out of the corner of his eye. He was too tired to be truly nervous of his boyfriend's father, no matter how fiercely he glared (or how aware of the man's shotgun Harry was)._ It's almost lucky this is happening now. Usually I'd be Disapparating to Paris if someone looked at me like that. _"I care about Kurt a lot and want to be with him."

Burt looked at him with a suspicious eye, "I thought you weren't gay."

Harry shrugged. _Seriously, muggles? Get over your labels. Probably easier not to explain it, though. It's not like I'm going to be dating anyone but Kurt for a long time. _"I didn't think I was. But I know that I'm at least bisexual now. I really like Kurt."

Burt nodded thoughtfully, his face not giving anything away, "You're going to take care of him?"

"He doesn't need much taking care of, but in any way he'll let me, yes," Harry shrugged helplessly and gave a little wry smile. _It's not like someone as independent as Kurt is going to need a lot of doting. Won't stop me from trying, though._

The father sighed, squinting over at where Kurt was hovering over the pale Mr Schuester. There was a long pause as the man tried to find the words, and Harry waited with trepidation. Burt spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "You know, I always thought I'd be your typical shotgun-wielding- redneck-daddy when Kurt started dating a boy... but I like you, kid."

Burt looked back at Harry with a gentler expression. Harry felt his eyes go a little wider at the sincerity in the man's tone, "I mean, I'll still kill you if you hurt him, but I don't think you will. You stand up for him at school, you ignore what the little punks there say about you, you don't let them push you around... Kurt's always going on about how brave you are. That's the kind of boy I want for my son. Someone who's as brave as he is. You treat him right, you make him happy, and as far as I'm concerned you're part of the family. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry responded automatically, his face a little flushed and his heart swelling with joy. _Part of the family... _Burt took a deep breath, and shot a glance over Harry's head at Remus.

"And even if things don't work out between the two of you - not that I don't think they will, you seem to be pretty good together - you can still stay if you need to. If things get too hard at home," Burt's voice was a little rougher, and he seemed to be fighting off a scowl at Remus as the werewolf snored on his chair. At Harry's quirked eyebrow, Burt insisted. "I'm serious, no matter what. Even if things go south for you and Kurt, if you need a place to go, you're welcome in my home. I'm not going to leave a good kid like you in a bad situation if I can help get you out."

"Thank you," Harry murmured. Even as he felt a surge of protectiveness for Remus he felt himself getting a little choked up. _Merlin, he's like a slightly-redneck Mr Weasley. How do I keep finding such welcoming people?_

Kurt and Mr Schuester joined them then, Kurt slipped back under his father's arm. The teacher shot Harry a weak smile, rubbing a hand over his red eyes, and Kurt nodded to his father.

"We're heading home now. Do you need any help getting Remus to your car, Harry?" Kurt asked, shooting Remus a disapproving look that was so like his father's that Harry smiled a little. Remus chose that moment to slide off his chair with a mumble, remaining where he'd landed in a heap. Harry cringed.

"It's fine, I can carry him," he assured the assembled people. Mr Schuester patted him on the shoulder and wandered out with a mumble about getting some sleep, and Harry waved Kurt and Burt away. "Really, it's fine. You should go home and rest. I'll see you tomorrow, right Kurt?"

"Noon," Kurt confirmed, and allowed his father to started leading him away. He hesitated after a few steps, then pulled away from Burt to run back and kiss Harry again, just a rough peck against the side of his mouth, before he was rushing back to his father's side and waving back. "I'll see you then! Call if you need anything!"

"I will!" Harry called back. He turned back to Remus with a sigh. He surveyed the heap of man with a critical eye. "I don't suppose there's any way you're going to wake up and make my life easier?"

Remus just snored. Harry sighed again, "Didn't think so."


	15. Chapter 14

(A/N: The final chapter! And it's up a day early! There will be a short epilogue, no more than a couple of thousand words, and it won't really 'wrap things up', so to speak; that happens in this chapter. Honestly, it could be self-contained here but I wanted to add a little levity to the mix, so there will be more of a bonus chapter with notes on the sequel at the bottom. That should be up midway through next week.

To my reviewers: You all rock so hard, you make granite look like marshmellows. This is the longest thing I have EVER written, and the first long fiction I've ever completed. I never would have gotten this far without each and every one of you and your encouragement. I really think this has helped me grow as a writer, and I look forward to continuing to entertain you! Just give me a month or two to rest my brain. But more on that in the Epilogue notes next chapter. On with what you're all waiting for; the fic!)

* * *

The night started to sink in on the drive home. Harry found himself having to fight to keep his eyes open as the last of the adrenaline faded, leaving him drained. He pulled cautiously into the driveway, narrowly avoiding the letterbox, and staggered out of the car. Hermione and Ron were sitting on the front steps, and they jumped up when they saw him.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked him as they rushed over, her eyes wide and her mouth set. Harry waved a hand.

"S'all good. They got her, didn't work out there was magic, Remus was useless. You know how it is," he slurred, rubbing his face with one weak hand. Hermione clucked her tongue and reached out to rub Harry's arm, starting to tug him back towards the house as Ron pulled Remus from the back seat.

"You poor thing, you're dead on your feet," she fussed, slipping an arm around his shoulder as they walked, opening the front door for him. "Everyone is waiting in the living room for you to tell them what happened, but I warned them you might just want to go to bed. You can tell them in the morning."

"I love you, Hermione," Harry sighed, shutting his eyes and letting the girl lead him into the house. "I'm going to fall asleep now, 'kay?"

"Wait until we get you into bed first, if you please," Hermione steered him around the open living room door, fielding the questions suddenly being shouted at them with the aplomb of someone used to dealing with press. The only time Harry had to speak was when Mrs Evans piped up in a wail.

"I don't see how you could be so insensitive to want to _sleep _right now. We want to know what happened! Don't you know how tense it's been for us tonight?" she demanded of Harry, who opened his eyes from where he was leaning against Hermione's shoulder to look at her in disbelief. He couldn't help the dry words that slipped out of his mouth.

"Seriously? You want to talk about tense? Madam, tonight I listened to my boyfriend get kidnapped and threatened with a gun, followed an armed killer to a place where I knew there wasn't going to be any help, jumped in front of a gun and actually got shot, and spent several hours being questioned by police. You seriously think you've had a worse night than me? Really?"

As Mrs Evans blanched and shut her mouth with a click, Artie started, "Wait, you got shot? Where? Shouldn't you be in hospital?"

Harry shook his head and dragged his torn t-shirt off his shoulder, revealing the bandages underneath, "It was just a graze. They stitched it at the school before I went to the police station. Hurt like a bitch, though."

"I'm sure you can all understand how tired he is," Hermione insisted firmly, pulling Harry back under her arm and starting to walk away. "I'm sure the police will tell you everything you need to know, and Harry can share details in the morning. Good night!"

Hermione then bodily dragged Harry from the room, apologising when he yelped and grabbed his shoulder, as Ron slammed the living room door shut on the curious faces of the guests.

"Insensitive?_ You're_ insensitive? She's keeping an injured teenager - the one who caught the woman threatening her son, no less - from rest just to satisfy her curiosity? She - augh!" Hermione fumed as Ron slipping his arm around Harry from the other side. "That woman is such an... an... _entitlement whore_."

Ron snorted at Hermione vicious declaration, "I'm pretty sure that's not a real thing."

"_I'm_ pretty sure she can still hear us from here," Harry added, shooting the living room door a nervous glance. Hermione blushed a little, then scowled fiercely.

"Good!" she said a little louder, making Ron snicker. "I hope she heard _exactly _what I think of her. Now let's go to bed. I'm exhausted just from running interference here, I can't imagine how tired you are, Harry. And Ron, if you're a fraction as tired as I am, you must be just dead on your feet."

"Too right," Ron yawned, tugging the other two towards the stairs. "I could sleep for about a year. You'd better not hog the blankets, Potter. "

"I make no promises."

The three magic teen staggered up to Harry's room, Hermione kicking the door shut behind them. They dumped Harry in his desk chair for a moment while Hermione pulled the covers back on the bed and Ron went to brush his teeth. Harry dozed in the chair, barely waking up when his shoes were pulled off and his hoody was unzipped and slipped off him. He managed to wake up to drag off his torn and bloodied t-shirt and jeans and tugged on a pair of loose sweatpants, but he winced when he tried to pull on a new shirt.

"Will you guys be horribly offended if I go without a shirt tonight? My shoulder is killing me," he sighed. Hermione patted his good shoulder and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, love. I'll grab you a pain relieving potion from the bathroom, you just crawl into bed and try not to fall asleep until you've taken it," she hurried off into the bathroom, and Harry slipped into bed next to Ron.

"Remember, don't steal the covers," the redhead warned as Harry curled up next to him, patting his friend on the back. Harry snorted against Ron's chest.

"You know I will. I like to nest in my sleep. If we move over Hermione can sleep on the other side of me, though. That will make it harder for me to leave you cold."

"Works for me," Ron grinned as he slid over to one side, Harry still clinging to his side. The smaller wizard ignored the playfully muttered, "Damn cuddle-junkie" andstarted to drift off. He barely felt Hermione slid in next to him and give him the pain relief potion and his Calming Drought, drinking them automatically and letting the artificial tranquillity carry him into sleep.

* * *

_His sleep was plagued with vaguely threatening dreams, of red eyes turning to blue, from blue to an indescribable blue-green that faded and died. He was running past falling bodies, friends and family and strangers, able to save them but unable to stop running. The eyes are watching him, shifting from red to blue to glasz. There were burning cars just beyond his vision, and the fire was spreading. He just had to run a little further, a little faster - his arm was burning, now, the flames licking at him but it's okay because Delmonico was in front of him. He lunged for her, Gryffindor's sword in hand. Her eyes are red, but they turn to blue as the blade pierces her stomach. Then the blue eyes shift to glasz and Kurt's bleeding in his arms -_

Cold water hit his face and he was up and out of bed before he knew he was awake. Ron and Hermione were kneeling over the spot he had been sleeping in, an empty glass of water in Hermione's hand. Their expressions were concerned, but unsurprised. Harry sighed.

"Sorry, guys. Just a nightmare," he waved a hand, drying the water on the bed and his clothes with a silent charm. Ron nodded and flopped back down, and Hermione placed the glass on the bedside table. She slipped back underneath the sheet and held out her arms to Harry, who gratefully jumped back into bed and snuggled up close to her. A glance at his much-abused clock showed that it was four in the morning.

"Eight hours," he muttered. Hermione stirred next to him.

"Until what?" she whispered curiously. Harry breathed out the answer on a content sigh as he slipped back into sleep.

"Until Kurt..."

He slept peacefully until 8, when a crash and shouts from upstairs woke most of the house. A brief investigation by the bleary eyed Wizarding teens showed that little Sarah Puckerman had woken early and had decided to see how many chairs from around the house she could stack over her family before they awoke (the answer was nine and a toaster). The day started up from then, with confirmation via a phone call from Lima Police Station that the danger was over and everyone could return to their homes. Harry had cooked a large breakfast for everyone while Hermione helped the Evans pack Mrs Evans' clothing and Ron wrestled with the folding beds. Over breakfast, Harry told them as much as he could about the night before.

"So you listened and deciphered Kurt's clues, followed an armed crazy person to a deserted location, took on said armed person whilst unarmed and _won_, _got shot_, and saved Kurt and Rachel," Artie summarised when he was done, a piece of pancake hanging forgotten from his fork. Harry blushed at the gobsmacked looks around the table, poking his own cereal nervously.

"Yeah, pretty much. You missed the part where it was all sheer dumb luck and I was nearly wetting myself the whole time, though," he mumbled the lie into his hair, glancing up at the clock. Sam shook his head.

"Admit it, Harry. You're a Jedi in disguise," the blonde boy grinned at him, and Harry smiled back. Puck piped up helpfully.

"Or a ninja. Can you use nun-chucks? I can teach you, I have a pair."

"Ooh, maybe he's a mage or a wizard!" Artie chimed in, the adults looking a little bemused at the turn of the conversation. Hermione and Ron exchanged an amused glance and Harry sighed and shook his head. _Well, at least my participation in this conversation is optional. Gives me time to worry about what Kurt wants. _The three other gleeks at the table started to argue.

"No way, man. Avoiding bullets, that's totally a Jedi thing."

"Pfft, like a ninja couldn't dodge a bullet. Not to mention the whole jumping out of nowhere move. He's totally a ninja."

"He had to track them down in the first place, that's a mage thing."

Sarah bounced up in her seat, not entirely sure what they were talking about (she's been busy drowning her pancake in maple syrup) but wanting to join in, "Ooh! Ooh! I know! He's a magical fairy prince!"

Hermione stifled her laughter in her hand, and Ron didn't bother. There were scattered snickers around the room, and people shot Harry nervous glances. Harry just sighed and smiled and ate some more cereal. There was an awkward silence as someone tried to think of something to add to that suggestion. Puck broke the silence with a quip that prompted his mother to smack him over the back of the head.

"Well, he _is _dating Kurt..."

Breakfast continued with thankfully little reference to Harry being a magical fairy prince, and soon the families were packing up to go. An hour later and Harry was helping Puck and Sam lift the Evans' luggage into their car. Hermione had had to drive Mr Evans home to get it, and the witch was now doing the same for Mrs Puckerman. Harry kept glancing at his watch, willing time to speed up so he could go over to Kurt's. It felt like it took forever to get everyone gone, with Mrs Evans crying at her scuffed luggage and Sarah deciding that she was going to live in the neighbour's tree. By the time they were loading Artie into the car and Mrs Abram's was apologising for calling Mrs Evan's expletives, Harry was practically vibrating in place. He just wanted it to be noon so he could a) find out what Kurt wanted to tell him and b) see that the boy was okay after his ordeal (and maybe c) kiss him a little. Harry wasn't picky). Harry killed time by helping Ron and Hermione clean the house and filling a finally-compus Remus in on what had happened the night before. The werewolf had staggered downstairs at about 11, rubbing his eyes and still wearing the same clothes he had been wearing yesterday. He walked into the kitchen to find Hermione re-wrapping Harry's injured shoulder and Ron charming a broom to clean up a few broken plates. He froze in the doorway and took in the damage, a dawning realisation in his eyes.

"I guess I wasn't dreaming last night, then?"

"Nnnnope," Harry drawled, wincing as Hermione cleaned the cut with alcohol. Remus stared at the slight wound with wide eyes.

"What-?"

"Bullet graze."

"Why-"

"People will get suspicious if it heals instantly."

"Are you-"

"Fine."

"I'm so -"

"It's all right."

Harry sighed at the stricken expression on Remus' face, "Really, Remus. I get it. It's fine. You just - don't do that again, okay? Take so many at once. I know that when you're scared it's hard to think straight but you don't need three Droughts to calm down."

"I need at least two," Remus sighed, moving over to take the bandage from Hermione. "I've got this, Hermione, don't worry about it. But I think I'm developing a tolerance for them. But you _are _all right?"

Harry shot the man a half-hearted smile, "As much as I can be. It's over, at least."

Remus looked confused for a moment, "... I think I'm going to need the full story."

So Harry sighed and explained the nights events, receiving a sympathetic look from both Hermione and Ron when Remus started panicking about him putting himself in danger. The wizard endured the stuttered scolding from his guardian, eyeing the clock above the kitchen sink until 11.45, when he apologised for worrying the man and sprinted upstairs to change. He was out of the house by 11.46, hugging Ron and Hermione good bye as they settled down to argue about what to watch on TV. Harry pretended not to see Remus reaching for a Calming Drought as he rushed past the kitchen; he'd argue with the man about it later. Right now, Kurt was waiting.

* * *

He pulled up in front of the Hummel-Hudson household at 11.59, palms sweating and brow furrowed. Kurt was sitting on the porch with a glass in his hand, and he waved when Harry slipped out of the car. Harry took a deep breath when he saw the hesitant look on Kurt's face. _Calm down, Potter. He said he wasn't breaking up with you. Trust him. _

Kurt hurried over to him, jumping down the stairs of the porch and landing right in front of Harry. Before Harry could greet him, Kurt's hands were coming up to catch Harry's face, leaning forward to kiss the wizard firmly on the mouth. Harry started, but automatically brought his arms up and around Kurt's waist, tugging the boy closer to him. Kurt's body was solid and comforting in his arms as their lips pressed gently together, Kurt eventually moving his mouth to kiss him in earnest, and Harry stutteringly tried to copy the movements._ Kissing is a lot more complicated than I thought._

They broke apart when the front door opened, Kurt pulling away and looking over his shoulder, his arms still around Harry's shoulders. Burt stood in the doorway, looking torn between disapproval and amusement at the matching blushes on the two boy's faces. Harry tried to subtly move his hands off of Kurt's waist, and Kurt dropped his arms to catch Harry's hand.

"Morning, Harry," Burt rumbled, leaning on the door frame. "You get home okay?"

"Yes, sir," Harry confirmed, lips quirking into a smile when he felt Kurt squeeze his hand. "When I got home Ron and Hermione helped me deal with Remus and the guests. I basically fell asleep on Hermione's shoulder walking upstairs."

"Was he awake this morning?" Burt continued, raising an eyebrow at Harry's subtle flinch.

"He - uh, he was okay this morning. He helped me re-wrap my shoulder," Harry tried, but at Burt's probing look he admitted. "He was taking more medication when I left, though. I don't know what I'm going home to. At least Ron and Hermione will be there."

Burt gave a disapproving grunt and shook his head, "Glad you're okay, at least. I'll leave you boys to it. Don't give the neighbours anything to complain about, yeah?"

"Dad!" Kurt yelped, making Harry hide a snicker in a cough. "Oh my Gucci, we were just saying hello."

"It was a very long hello."

"It was not - forget it. Come on, Harry, let's go to my room," Kurt pouted a little and started to tug Harry inside, not deigning his father with a glance as they stalked (and were dragged) past. Harry waved at Burt vaguely as Kurt started to tug him towards his room. The two boys walked hand in hand down the stairs to the basement, Kurt still tugging Harry along, and as soon as they hit the bottom of the staircase Kurt was turning and kissing Harry again. It was brief, just a firm press of lips to the other's, but it made Harry smile a little. The smile dripped away when he saw the anxiety in Kurt's eyes.

"Are you all right?" the wizard asked softly. Kurt forced a tiny smile and turned away, leading Harry further into his room to the plush white couch.

"Of course! I'm fine. Everything is okay now," Kurt assured him, his voice slightly higher than normal and the words tumbling over one another. When Harry frowned a little Kurt took a deep breath, gently pushing Harry back onto the couch and leaning down to kiss his cheek. When he pulled back he seemed a little calmer, caressing Harry's scarred cheek with one soft finger. "Really, Harry. I'm okay. We're okay. I just need to tell you something."

"You can tell me anything," Harry murmured sincerely, catching Kurt's hand and pressing a kiss to the palm. Kurt flushed and his eyes sparkled, and he stood up quickly.

"Just a second," he muttered, scurrying over to his desk. Harry let out a breath, sagging back against the sofa. _I guess it's time to find out how Fate is fucking with me this time._

Kurt took a deep breath as he walked back over, a paper folder in hand, visibly gathering his courage. He shot Harry a pleading, heart-felt look, "Harry, I want you to know that even if I'm right and my s-suspicions are accurate, it doesn't change how I feel about you, okay? I still lo-like you, I still want to be with you. Okay?"

"Okay," Harry nodded slowly, sinking a little in his chair. Kurt steeled himself.

"Okay," he sighed a little, looking at the file in his hands. "I'm sure you've noticed that America is very... internally focused. I mean, we don't hear a lot about what's happening in the rest of the world, you know? Especially not here in Lima."

"Right, yeah," Harry agreed easily, a niggling suspicion in the back of his mind. Kurt shifted uncomfortably.

"When I met you, I knew almost nothing about what had happen in Britain, with the war and everything. All I knew was that there had been some terrorist attacks but they had caught the guy in charge," he shrugged a little sheepishly, seeming to take his lack of knowledge as a personal flaw. "When I saw your scars, I realised that I _hadn't _realised how real it was. Like, it was just an abstract idea, you know? Not something that could actually hurt real people, which I know sounds stupid-"

"I think that's normal," Harry shrugged, relaxing a bit. "How can you really _get _something if you've never gone through it, right?"

"Yeah," Kurt sighed again, running a slightly trembling hand through his hair. "So I decided that, since I wanted to know where you were coming from, I should do some research."

He waved the file around a little, shooting Harry an embarrassed smile, "I like to be organised. I looked it up and read whatever I could find on the Internet and - look, can I just tell you what I know about it?"

At Harry's confused nod, Kurt took a deep breath, "Okay. There was a terrorist cell in England that formed sometime in the late 1970s. Almost nothing was known about their motivations or where they came from, and they attacked people at random. A special military unit was formed to hunt them, the Special Task Forces Unit. The terrorist group were called Death Eaters, and the leader was a guy called Tom Riddle, which might have been a pseudonym. Am I doing okay so far?"

"Yeah, that's right. I didn't realise all that was public knowledge," Harry raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to Google it later. He actually wasn't sure what the official story was outside of what Remus had briefed him on before he came to America; he didn't know what muggles world-wide had been told. Kurt gave a choked little laugh at Harry's answer, but pushed on before the wizard could ask what it was about he continued.

"So the group wasn't very active in the 70s and 80s, and disappeared in about 1993, right?"

"Right. No one knows why._" I blew him up with my magical baby powers of love. As you do._

"Okay. Then they reappeared about two years ago and started killing people. No one knew why or who they was going to target next. There wasn't really any rhyme or reason to it, but nearly 300,000 people died in those three years," Kurt's voice caught here, and Harry could see the disbelief and horror in his eyes that that many people could have died. "The Special Task Force Unit saved a lot of people, but they couldn't be everywhere."

"Yeah, that all sounds about right," Harry nodded and looked at the still-nervous Kurt curiously. "So what were you confused about?"

Kurt cringed a little, then looked Harry in the eye, "The child soldiers."

Harry's stomach dropped, but his face betrayed nothing. After a moment, he spoke, "What about them?"

Kurt took a deep breath, shifting a little closer to Harry and opening his file. He pulled out a photograph that had obviously been cut from a magazine article and handed it to Harry. It was the one that had started the child soldier rumours, that had gotten the British government in so much trouble and caused the diplomatic incident. It was Harry, disguised in black from head to toe and dishing out orders to a group of Aurors - Special Task Force members. Behind a soldier two tufts of red and frizzy brunette hair could be seen. As Harry's blood turned to ice and his face went pale, Kurt continued gently.

"It's widely accepted that the Special Task Force had started training orphaned children in the 1990s to be soldiers. While they accepted that the boy in the photograph was under 18, they denied that he was younger than 13, even though he was... pretty tiny. The British government insisted that after the war all child soldiers were decommissioned and allowed to live ordinary lives. Harry, how many British teenagers can there be that are 5 foot tall at 15 or 16, orphans, are followed around by someone with red hair and someone with curly brown hair, and have super human reflexes, crisis and combat training, and PSTD?"

_Oh, fuck._

Harry stared at Kurt wide-eyed for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. His mouth was dry and his forehead was damp as his mind raced. A cold feeling was spreading from his chest down to his fingertips as he tried not to panic. _If anyone finds out that I'm here, I'll have to leave. If the muggles find out I'll be famous for being a child soldier, and then the Wizarding World will find out where I am... The Ministry can't let me get famous in the muggle world, it could blow the Statute of Secrecy to smithereens. They'll make me leave the muggle world for good. Fuck, fuck, __**fuck**__..._

"Kurt, if anyone finds out where I am," Harry began carefully, looking Kurt in the eye with desperate, deadly sincerity. "You will _never _see me again. Or hear from me. The M - British government can't risk me causing an incident. They can and _will _make me disappear if they have to. No one can know that you know."

Kurt's face was pale and solemn, "I haven't told anyone, Harry, not even my dad, and I won't. I knew it would have to be a secret. But it's true, then? You were the soldier in the picture?"

Harry took a deep, shuddering breath. His hands were trembling, and he suddenly felt like he might start crying, "Yes. That's me."

"Oh, Harry," to Harry's shock, he suddenly found himself with his face against Kurt's sweater and Kurt's arms squeezing him tightly. As he sat there, dumbfounded, he felt Kurt press a definite kiss to his forehead. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. I just wanted to confirm it because if I know, I can help you, you know? Help you keep it a secret and help you get over everything you must have been through. God, I can't _imagine _- you must be so strong to survive that, and I knew you were strong but - oh Harry, it's okay, you can cry if you need to."

Harry hadn't even noticed his shoulders shaking, but when Kurt said that a sob caught in Harry's throat. Somehow Kurt's earnest assurances and support had cracked some wall Harry didn't even know he had, and a rush of relief and suppressed fear poured out of him in the tears that started running down his face. His hands were gripping Kurt's shirt tightly without Harry remembering putting them there, and all he could do was bury his face against Kurt's chest and cry. Kurt just held him tightly and whispered sweet words into his hair.

"It's okay, Harry, you're safe now. It's over. You're just a normal boy who has friends who love him and someone to talk to if you need it. I promise you, everything is going to be okay. Just let it out."

Harry didn't know how long he cried for. All he knew was that after a while he and Kurt were curled up on the floor together, Kurt petting his hair lovingly with Harry's head tucked under his chin. The teenage wizard felt drained and tired, but also relieved, like a huge weight he didn't know he'd been carrying around had been lifted from his shoulders. He snuggled closer to Kurt, the other boy's comforting warmth proving to difficult to resist, and he sighed contentedly.

"Feel any better?" Kurt asked hesitantly, still running his fingers through Harry's hair. Harry sighed again, and nodded against Kurt's chest.

"Much," he admitted, reluctantly pulled back so he could look Kurt in the eye. He smiled weakly at the other boy, trying not to flinch at the sheer amount of worry in the glasz eyes. "I didn't even realise how much keeping that in was bothering me. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Kurt demurred, waving one hand. "Really, I'm just happy to be here for you. Do you - want to talk about it?"

Harry hesitated. Kurt rushed to assure him, "It's okay if you don't want to tell me, I understand. It's just - you can talk to me, sweetie. I won't breath a word of it to anyone, and I'm totally willing to listen."

"It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't," Harry shook his head._ Fuck you, Statute of Secrecy. _"It would be both very illegal and dangerous. It's mostly classified stuff."

"Well, is there anything non-classified you'd like to tell me?" Kurt asked tentatively, eyes wide. "I mean, only if you want to, I am majorly curious but you don't have to tell me anything-"

"I want-" Harry interrupted, but cut himself off. He thought about his life, about magic and Hogwarts and the other world he came from, and sighed. "I wish I could tell you everything, Kurt, but I can't. What I can tell you is that not everything in those article is accurate, and - I didn't lie about my past. Not really. I wasn't trained from birth. Like I told you, I grew up in middle-class Surrey with my aunt and uncle. When I was 11, I went to boarding school, like I told you."

Kurt listened intently, and Harry took a deep breath._ May as well be as honest as I can, even if I can't give him the full story_, "I don't know why I was chosen - probably because I didn't have a family who cared about me and I was naturally quite talented at fighting. Also, my parents were members of the Special Task Force, so maybe they thought I would be good at it by nature? I don't know. But they didn't lock me away anywhere - not at first. I just went to school and learned to fight. There was heaps of drama anyway, like I told you, but I was kind of a normal kid. It wasn't until I was 15 that things really got intense. After that..."

Kurt took Harry's hand when he faded out, his expression twisted with pity and sadness. Harry stared at their linked hands, "The last two years... they trained me. Nothing else. Sometimes Ron and Hermione would sneak in but other than that... I fought, too. These scars aren't from a bomb, I got caught once and... she wanted information. Riddle's right hand woman."

Kurt gasped, and Harry laughed bitterly, "Yeah. Torture? Not so fun. They still put me in charge. I lead the Special Task Force into battle. I wasn't just a soldier, I was a leader and I don't know why. It's what they trained me for. They wanted a general. I don't know why it had to be me."

Kurt stayed quiet, running his fingers through Harry's hair as the boy searched for the words. Harry stared off into space, his thoughts taking him back to the fire and shouts, the pain and the fear and the need to just keep moving, "I know how to hurt people in so many ways. I was so _good _at it. They called me Legend - it was my code name. They made me into such a perfect little soldier that I think I've kind of forgotten how to be a person."

"Were there others?" Kurt asked softly, squeezing Harry's hand. Harry laughed a little.

"No. Not really. I mean, a few other kids took defence classes and learned some of the stuff but there weren't any kids just being turned into weapons. Not so I ever saw, anyway. It was just me," he looked up at Kurt bleakly. "I've never wanted to be special. I _hate_being special. I was - I was the only one. It's very lonely, being the only one."

"I know," Kurt whispered. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across Harry's gently, before pulling back to look beseechingly into Harry's eyes. "But you're not alone anymore. You have me. You have New Directions. You don't have to be special anymore, Harry, not like that, especially now that ex-Mrs Schue has been caught. You can just be an ordinary kid who slacks off in class and hangs out with friends and dates and has fun. It's over, Harry. You - you can just be you now."

Harry felt a flicker of a smile cross his face. A warm feeling was replacing the hollowness in his chest, something light and hopeful. _Huh. Hope. I'd almost forgotten what that felt like._He dropped his head on Kurt's shoulder, curling around the boy tightly, "Thank you."

"You never have to thank me," Kurt swore, pulling Harry closer to him. "The only things you'll have to face now is McKinley High, and I'll be with you all the way."

Harry pulled back to look Kurt in the eye, a genuine smile lighting up his features. Kurt looked back with determined eyes, affection shining through his features. The wizard leant forward and pressed their mouths together, catching Kurt's face in his hands. He was just a normal, anonymous boy kissing his outlandish, flamboyant boyfriend. He felt like he could do anything.

* * *

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman. I'm Rod Remington and this is the 6 o'clock news. Our main story tonight, the violent stalker who had been making attempts on the lives of the members of the William McKinley High Glee Club has been caught. We're going live to Todd Richardson, our man on the scene at William McKinley High School. Todd?"

"Thanks, Rod! I'm standing outside William McKinley High School in Lima, where the stalker, whom police have confirmed was one Terri Delmonico, was caught at around 9 last night. Details are sketchy right now, but we do know that at around 8.45 she kidnapped two members of the Glee Club from their home and brought them here to the auditorium, and a third student secretly followed them and alerted police to their location. This is unconfirmed, but there are rumours here that it was that third student who actually disarmed and disabled Delmonico, saving the other two several minutes prior to the police arriving. In the past two months since these attacks started Delmonico has also; struck one student over the head with a brick, attempted to throw gasoline onto another, dropped the lighting rig in the William McKinley High auditorium while a student was on stage, taken shots at another student, and finally set a police car on fire in order to cause a distraction so she could kidnap these other two last night. The two police officers who belonged to that car were luckily some yards away when the vehicle exploded and were treated for minor injuries. Delmonico herself is currently in hospital being treated for injuries sustained during her arrest. Miraculously, none of the kids have been badly hurt in these incidents, with the only real injury being a concussion from the first attack, but police still say they will be charging her with multiple counts of attempted murder, grievous bodily harm, assault, threats to kill, and kidnapping, as well as minor charges of possessing an unlicensed firearm and parking in a handicapped zone. Back to you in the studio, Rod."

"Thanks, Todd. We'll have more on that as we get more information, but stick around after sports for Sue's Corner, where she'll be talking about how she could have done better than Delmonico."


	16. Epilogue

This is the FINAL chapter of Anonymity. I'm going to have a longer A/N at the bottom to talk about the sequel and the intermittent one-shots, but I just wanted to say a) this bonus chapter is a little pointless, but I wanted to add a little levity and really close up the last of the story, and b) THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING! I never imagined that I would get more than 100 reviews for this, let alone nearly 500! You've spurred me on and given me ideas for the sequel, even a three-quel if the sequel goes well! But more on that later (in the epically long A/N at the end). On with the pointless-but-kind-of- funny bonus chapter!

* * *

"Well, I'd say this party is a success," Harry commented dryly, ducking a stray lampshade that was being used as a Frisbee. Kurt giggled, tucking his head under Harry's chin and snuggling into his boyfriend's side (even though he had to lie close to horizontally on the couch to do so).

"What can I say, we have a lot to celebrate," Kurt stretched luxuriously, waving at Mercedes across the room. Harry hmmed his agreement and took another sip of Coke, surveying the chaos his living room had become.

Brittany and Santana were dancing together on the coffee table in their skirts and bras, their shirts having long since mysteriously disappeared. Artie and Ron were shouting encouragement from the sidelines, ducking the occasional pillow or glass thrown at them by an unimpressed Hermione or Mercedes. Tina and Mike were making out on a couch, totally oblivious to the noise and activity around them. Rachel was dancing and singing along to the music with Quinn, both girls forgetting their usual distaste for one another in favour of giggling and twirling the other around. Sam and Finn had taken over the TV to play some video game which seemed to involve shooting zombie Nazis. Mercedes was talking to Hermione in one corner, both girls ignoring the shirtless and flexing Puck, who was still desperately trying to get Hermione's attention. And Harry and Kurt were curled up together to the side, content to simply be together and watch their friends have fun.

"I think it's hilarious that Artie has no problem drooling over his ex-girlfriend and her new partner," Harry commented, tracing a hand down Kurt's arm through the boy's thin silk shirt. Kurt shivered a little and pressed a soft kiss to Harry's throat.

"I think it's hilarious that this is what they're like sober," Kurt giggled, curling his fingers in Harry's t-shirt. "Can you image what this lot would be like drunk?"

"I don't want to think about it."

It was Saturday night, only two days after Delmonico's arrest and their win at Sectionals. Harry had thrown together a party at Remus' insistence ("I'll stay out of the way, just have your friends over and relax a little, Prongslet. You've earned it.") and thus far it seemed to be going well. A huge lopsided banner was half pulled down on one side of the room, with the hastily painted words on it reading, "Congratulations on winning!" and a second sign tacked onto the end, "...and not dying!" There were empty pizza boxes and cans of soda everywhere, a series of gouges in the ceiling that Harry had no idea how they'd come about, and thus far the evening had consisted of Rachel and Kurt giving a dramatic retelling of their abduction, a loud rendition of 'We Are the Champions,' and soda toasts to everything from Sectionals to safety to snogging. The group was high on life and love, and Harry couldn't be more content. He rested his cheek on the top of Kurt's head and sighed. _Friends, revelry, Kurt in my arms... this is about as good as it gets._

"I think Puck is actually making some progress with Hermione," Kurt noted, stealing Harry's can of Coke to take a sip. Harry snorted.

"She's already decided she's going to sleep with him," Harry informed Kurt, his voice dry and amused. "She's just enjoying making him work for it."

"Really?" Kurt twisted his head around to look at Harry with a raised eyebrow. "He doesn't seem her type."

Harry shrugged and stole his Coke back, "She doesn't have a lot of time to relax or have a personal life back home. She and Ron are leaving tomorrow, she said she wants to get some stress relief in before she goes. She's a lot more blasé about sex than me and Ron, strangely enough."

"Huh. I would not have picked that," Kurt looked back over at the witch, taking in her fitted-but-not-tight jeans and buttoned-up cardigan. "Do the English just breed people who are the opposite of what they appear, or is it just you three?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow and looked down at Kurt, who grinned a little, "You know, you're the tiny bruiser, Ron's the enormous teddy-bear, and Hermione is apparently the classy-sex-lover. It's kinda funny."

"You have a point," Harry chuckled and nuzzled closer to Kurt. He ducked a flying article of clothing, quickly identifying it as Mike's shirt, and sighed. "I'm going to suggest that Mike and Tina go up to a guest room."

"Good idea," Kurt sat up and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing. "I'm going to go talk to Mercedes so Hermione can go and 'relieve some stress'"

"Very kind. Be with you in a moment."

Harry jumped to his feet and wandered over to Mike and Tina, sidestepping the waltzing Rachel and Quinn and nodding to Ron, who was now discussing MTV with Artie while Santana and Brittany ate pizza. He handed the t-shirt back to a flushed Mike and gave them directions to the nearest guest room, smiling a little at the slightly embarrassed 'thank yous' he got in return. He slipped back across the room to Kurt's side, slipping his arm around the taller boy's waist and pulling him close. He paused from chatting to Hermione and Mercedes to kiss Harry on the forehead, then returned to the discussion about Broadway versus London.

"I get that the West End is enormous," Kurt argued, idly running his hand down Harry's back. "And I know that a lot of amazing shows have started there, but they all come to Broadway eventually. It's the centre of musical theatre in the world!"

"We'll have to agree to disagree on that one, I think," Hermione shrugged, taking a sip of her glass of water. "There wouldn't be a Broadway without West End."

"So the apprentice overtook the master, it happens!"

"Sorry to interrupt, but how long are you planning on torturing Puck for?" Harry eyed the mohawked boy behind Hermione. He was hitting his head against the wall gently, but he glanced up at Harry with suspicion when the boy spoke. Hermione giggled a little as Puck looked between them.

"Don't tell me she's, like, a lesbian or married or celibate or something?" Puck demanded, making Kurt and Mercedes roll their eyes in tandem. "'Cause babe, I ignored Brittany and Santana's strip tease for you."

"Relax, Noah," Hermione drained the rest of her glass and placed in on the side table. She turned to face him and put her hands on her hips, staring him down with a stern look and totally ignoring the wide-eyed Mercedes, fascinated Kurt, and chuckling Harry behind her. "I have every intention of sleeping with you tonight. Preferably a few times. But we have to get a few things very clear first."

"Totally," Puck nodded emphatically, eyes wide and eager. Hermione started ticking things off on her fingers.

"Firstly, I'm leaving the country tomorrow and likely won't be back for several months. Tonight, we have sex. Tomorrow, we say goodbye as friendly acquaintances. No more to it than that."

"Works for me."

"I got the feeling it might. Secondly, I am not your 'babe'. I make allowances for things said in the heat of the moment but before then, that will get you kicked out of bed. Understood?"

"Yeah, got it."

"Thirdly, you try to talk down to me or use this against me, and I will kick you down a flight of stairs then tell Harry and Ron you made me cry. They will destroy you. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good," Hermione suddenly grabbed Puck by the shoulder and dragged him forward. She kissed him deeply for a moment then shoved him gently back. "Follow me, then."

"Mike and Tina are in the red guest room, try the blue one!" Harry called after them, prompting a wave and a 'thank you!' from Hermione. Harry sighed as Hermione lead Puck from the room, "I remember when she blushed when I kissed her on the cheek. They grow up so fast."

Kurt laughed and grabbed Mercedes' hand with the one that wasn't holding Harry, "Are you having fun yet, sweetie?"

Mercedes smiled weakly and shrugged, "Sure."

Both Kurt and Harry frowned, the latter pulling away from the former to slip an arm around the girl's shoulders. Kurt squeezed her a little and tried to catch her eye, "Hey, what's up? Are you okay?"

Mercedes looked up at him through her eyelashes. To Harry's horror and Kurt's concern, she started to sniff. When she spoke, there was a tremor in her voice that made Harry want to run and get Hermione._ Crying girl alert! Crying girl alert! Danger! Danger!_ "Did you know that Finn called me when he realised you and Rachel were gone?"

Kurt paused, raising his eyebrows. He and Harry exchanged a glance, and finally the boy shook his head, "He didn't tell me. Why did he call you?"

Mercedes shrugged, looking at her feet, "I don't think he knew what to do. But he called me and told me that you and Rachel were missing and that he thought ex-Mrs Schue had you and all I could hear in the background was screaming and the fire..."

"Oh, sweetie," Kurt sighed, pulling the now trembling Mercedes into his arms and squeezing her tightly. Harry looked at her with sympathy from the sidelines, knowing intimately well how she must have felt at the time. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"I thought you were going to die," her voice was thick with tears and muffled against Kurt's chest. "He told me and all I could think was - Kurt's going to die. He's going to die and there's nothing I can do and I was_ so scared_, Kurtie."

Mercedes' shoulders began to shake as sobs started catching in her throat. Kurt just held her tighter, whispering comforting words into her hair. A movement to Harry's left made him glance over; Rachel and Quinn were sideling up next to them, their pretty faces twisted in worry. They looked to Harry with questions in their eyes. He sighed and shrugged helplessly.

"Finn called her and told her when you and Kurt were taken," he murmured to Rachel, glancing back to Kurt. He could feel his lips twitching down at the memory and the sound of Mercedes' cries. "I think this is a delayed reaction to how scared she was."

Rachel winced and nodded, and Quinn bit her lip. The two girls started to move forward, probably to try and help Kurt comfort the other diva, when Mercedes pulled away from the boy and started glaring up at him.

"Now you listen to me, white boy," she hissed furiously, wiping tears and running make up off her face with the back of her hand. She put one hand on her hip and pointed the other at Kurt's confused face. "You are never - and let me repeat, NEVER - allowed to do that to me again, you understand? You're not allowed to die. Ever. I've decided. And if you ever, _ever_ scare me like that again, I will track you down and kill you myself. You are my best friend and I love you and you're not _allowed_ to die. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," Kurt assured her, clearly suppressing a smile. He shot Harry a loving glance over the girl's head, but that just made her round on the wizard with a fierce scowl.

"And you!" she began, stomping the few feet over to poke him hard in the centre of his chest. "You are going to take extra special care of my boy, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry confirmed, his voice earnest and polite even as he fought off a grin. Mercedes didn't acknowledge it.

"You're going to love him and kiss him and treat him like the goddamn _prince he is_, or I will _cut_ you. Kurt is my boy, and he is amazing, and he deserves the best of the best, and he is never going to die, so you had better be ready. Do you understand me, Potter?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Harry confirmed, snapping a salute that made Rachel and Quinn giggle behind him. He dropped his hand at the still teary Mercedes' glare, and he spoke more seriously. "Honestly, Mercedes, you have nothing to worry about. I know how lucky I am to have Kurt. I have no intentions of doing anything to ruin that."

"And you'll keep him safe?" Mercedes confirmed, her voice wavering slightly, making Kurt wince and put a hand on her shoulder. Harry nodded and held her gaze.

"'Til my dying breath."

"Well, good," Mercedes sniffed, her eyes bright. She grabbed Harry's arm and tugged him towards Kurt, pointing at a couch with a fierce look. "Now go and make out and be a happy couple."

"Such a hardship, that," Harry quipped, taking a now blushing Kurt's hand as Mercedes grabbed Rachel and pulled her into an enormous hug. Harry and Kurt slipped back across the room to the sound of Mercedes threatening Rachel in similar terms ("...and I love you too, Berry, so if you die, I'll kill you.") and approached the couch. Kurt scurried ahead of Harry and lay down across the plush sofa, holding his arms out hopefully. Harry blushed but obeyed, gingerly lying down next to and alongside his boyfriend, slipping his arms around the taller boy's narrow waist. Both of their faces were flushed red, and embarrassed smiles darted across their lips. Kurt was the one who took the initiative, leaning his head forward to catch Harry's lips in a gentle kiss. Harry returned it gratefully, eyes slipping shut and his hand slipping up to cup Kurt's smooth cheek. The kiss was simple, just a press of lips, before Harry pulled back to look into Kurt's eyes. Kurt bit his lip, his eyes bright with nerve-tinged happiness, and Harry brushed some hair off his forehead.

"She's right, you know," Harry whispered, resting his forehead against Kurt's. "You are amazing, and you deserve the best."

"We're well matched, then," Kurt grinned a little, curling his fingers in Harry's t-shirt over the boy's back, leaning forward to press another kiss to Harry's lips. "I have the best. The best boyfriend, the best friends, the best family... and now that no one is trying to kill me, I think I've pretty much got it made right now."

"Good," Harry raised his voice a little to be heard over the sudden rush of music, Rachel and Mercedes' voices rising together with Quinn's tinkling laughter threading through. "I just have to live up to 'best boyfriend' status now, no pressure or anything-"

Kurt kissed Harry to cut him off, holding his lips for longer and shifting his mouth, making sparks burst under the wizard's skin. Those sparks heated further when a hint of something hot and wet slipped from Kurt's mouth and brushed against Harry's lower lip. A shocked noise caught in Harry's throat and Kurt pulled away. Harry stared at Kurt with wide, confused eyes. His boyfriend's face was flushed and he was biting his lower lip, looking at Harry with nervous eyes.

"Too soon?" Kurt asked, a little breathless. His tongue flicked out to wet his already pink lips, and Harry's eyes latched onto it. _Oh! It was his tongue. Tongue-kissing, right, I've heard of that... how the hell do you do it?_

"No, I was just - startled," Harry assured him, blushing darker when he realised how out-of-breath he sounded. "I've never - I mean, I've _heard_ of... using your t-tongue while kissing but I didn't realise that it was... nice or something you liked, I guess. I can try, if you want me to-"

"Not if you don't want to, or if you're not ready or something," Kurt interrupted, squeezing Harry closer. "I mean, it's only been, what, two days? I just thought - I mean, French-kissing is kind of essential to making out and I've never done it before either so-"

Harry pressed his lips against Kurt's, silencing his nervous babbling. He moved his mouth in the way Kurt did when they kissed, trying to reassure the boy with his clumsy movements that he was totally okay with however it went. He even slipped his tongue out of his mouth a little to rub against Kurt's lips, the happy noise Kurt made when he did warming him from the inside out. Kurt kissed back eagerly, the hand on Harry's back pressing them tighter together. Harry could have done that all night, just kissed Kurt with all the clumsy eagerness of inexperience, but a strange prickling sensation hit the back of his neck. Without opening his eyes, he pulled his mouth away from Kurt's.

"Ever get the feeling you're being watched?" he muttered. He opened his eyes at the same time Kurt did, quickly becoming aware of the face peering over the back of the couch and staring at them with wide-eyed interest. Harry sighed. "Can we help you, Brittany?"

Kurt twisted his head around to try and see her, his expression twisted with exasperation. She shrugged, utterly unashamed.

"Boys kissing is hot," she informed them seriously. Kurt groaned and turned back to Harry, burying his face in the pillow underneath him. Rachel's face popped over Harry's shoulder from behind him, making him jump and cover Kurt with his arm automatically.

"She's kind of right, but it's time for you to stop," Rachel added, tugging on Harry's arm until he reluctantly sat up. The group, including a much ruffled Mike and Tina but lacking Hermione or Puck, had assembled in front of the television, where Finn seemed to be setting up a bunch of microphones. "We've got karaoke to do!"

"Karaoke?" Kurt sat up, his pout turning into an eager look as he grabbed Harry's hand and started to pull him to his feet. "Okay, we're coming! Harry, will you sing with me?"

"Sure," Harry agreed automatically, any thoughts of stage fright shoved aside in favour of not disappointing Kurt. "Let's do this."

Kurt squealed happily and scurried over to Mercedes, dragging Harry behind him. Mercedes and Tina were flicking through a song book looking for things to perform, arguing over who got to do the Christina Aguilera solo while Santana pulled Brittany down onto the recently vacated couch. Finn and Rachel had started to croon into the unpowered microphones, singing a particularly schmaltzy ballad to one another and making Mike rolled his eyes in the background. Sam was tangled in the wires of the game system, manual in one hand and trying to explain what he was doing to a baffled Ron. Artie was giving Quinn a ride around the room, the blonde girl sitting in his lap and laughing as the paralysed boy spun his chair around. Harry caught Kurt's eye at that moment, Quinn's delighted laughter and Rachel's pure singing ringing in his ears, and he was so happy he couldn't help but reach forward and pull Kurt to him, rising up on his toes to press their mouths together again. He was safe, his friends, his family were there, Kurt was in his arms, and the Boy-Who-Lived felt truly alive for the first time in his life. When he pulled back, Kurt's ecstatic grin matched his.

"Can we sing something by Lady Gaga?" Harry asked hopefully, catching Kurt's hands in his. Kurt giggled.

"Always. How about Paparazzi?"

"Sounds perfect."

**THE END**

* * *

**NOTES ON THE SEQUEL:** So I'm not really going to spoil the whole sequel now, obviously, but there a few important things that I feel readers should know before they looked forward to it.

Firstly, the sequel will be shorter and very different from Anonymity. Anonymity was very plot driven, all about the stalker and the relationship forming. There was a lot of action and suspense. There will not be much of that of that in the sequel. It occurred to me through the writing of this that Harry has a lot going on under the surface, as does Remus. Harry has a severe trauma induced mental illness that has only been superficially treated, and Remus has several severe disorders (specifically Panic and Anxiety disorders, as well as likely depression and suicidal ideation) which he is receiving absolutely no treatment for, that have been building for quite some time. On top of that, they're both severely addicted to the Calming Droughts, which in my head are the Wizarding equivalent of a very strong anti-anxiety medication. The physiological symptoms of their illnesses are being treated, but the psychological aspects which are causing the physical symptoms aren't, and addiction to those sorts of drugs can cause reactions a lot of people don't know about.

The sequel will mostly be addressing those things, like Remus' increasing inability to cope with being a parental figure and Harry's need for one. It will probably be a bit depressing, kind of hard, and very much internally focused. There will be external dramas and issues as well, of course; there are still bullies and Kurt to think about, but the main focus will be on Harry finally using up the last of his strength and becoming unable to be the rock he's had to be for years. As such, this story will not be for everyone, as I know a lot of people don't like all that angsty stuff, but I promise there will also be a happy ending and a lot of Kurt being his awesomely fabulous self to even it out.

Secondly, yes I have considered a three-quel. I don't yet know if this universe will hold my attention for that long, but I do have a basic idea in my head. If I do write that, and only if I write that, will Harry's being a wizard become a major issue. Even then, I'm not sure that Kurt and the like will find out about the Wizarding World. It just seems so complicated to try and explain the whole world to a muggle who has no idea, and I want Kurt's focus of Harry to be 'the amazing boy I'm in love with' and not 'HOLY SHIT HE'S A WIZARD, THE GUY I LOVE IS A WIZARD AND THERE IS A WHOLE WORLD OF WIZARDS, HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT WIZARDS' and let's be honest, that would be any sane person's reaction. I'm not saying Kurt won't catch on that there is more to Harry than it appears, but I'm saying that you shouldn't hold your breath for a Kurt visiting Hogwarts fic.

Thirdly, and I want to make this very clear, I'm not trying to be Remus bashing. I like Remus, he's a good man, but he's also a man who lacks the capability to function. He's had a very traumatic life, between being a werewolf and losing everyone who mattered to him, and losing Sirius - the last thing he had in his life that was truly good - pushed him over the edge. He wants to get his act together and be a father-figure to Harry, but he can't be. He doesn't have that kind of stability in him. I'm not saying it's right - I personally think he should have put in place some sort of back up before taking on the responsibility for a child - but I'm saying that I'm not hating on Remus by making him incompetent. In my view, I'm making him a realistically mentally ill character. I apologise for any inconsistencies in that portrayal, I have done research and can speak from my own experiences but I'm not a psychologist.

Lastly, I will need some time to get it together. I actually have injured hands, and typing isn't all that easy. I love to write and I'll do it anyway, but I have to be careful not to push too far, lest I end up with a chronic injury. I expect you'll be able to see the first one shot in two-three weeks, and the sequel will start in 1-2 months. I hope I've got you hooked enough to take a look when it comes out!

Thank you to all my reviewers, and all my readers. I track my reviews and my hit count like a crazy person, and have nearly been caught checking at work on more than one occasion. I can only hope I can continue to please you with whatever crap I come up with next!


	17. AN Pining A Drabble

**A/N: **The first one-shot in the Anonymity 'verse is up, for anyone who missed it. Find it under my username, it's called Sexual Education (For the Borderline Asexual). Because doesn't take kindly to AN only chapters, I'm adding a drabble. Everytime I have to add a note here, I'll add a drabble. Win/Win?

This is set about two weeks after the end of Anonymity.

* * *

"So," Puck leant against Harry's locker, looking suspiciously casual. "Dude. How's stuff?"

Harry paused in the motion of putting a bookmark in his text book, raising an eyebrow at the mohawked boy, "Um... I'm sorry?"

"You know, what's up?" Puck shrugged, tugging on an ear and glancing around the hallway. At Harry's slightly confused look, he sighed heavily. "We don't talk much, man. Can't I make conversation or some shit?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, mentally rolling his eyes. _I give it ten seconds._ "Not much, anyway. How are you?"

_Eight_.

"Yeah, not bad, not bad. Got the new Halo finally, it's pretty good."

_Six_.

"That's nice. I've never played it, myself."

_Three_.

"Yeah. So..."

_Two_.

"Yes, Puck?"

_One_.

"Have you spoken to Hermione recently?"

_Right on schedule._

"Yes, actually, I spoke to her last night," Harry confirmed, trying not to look too pitying. "She's doing quite well. Enjoying her work. Why?"

"Oh, you know, just wondering," Puck shrugged, looking over his shoulder again. "She was pretty cool and everything. I just - did she talk about me?...at all?"

_No, she hasn't. Just like she hasn't the last _20 times_ you've asked._

"I don't think so," Harry shrugged a little, pretending not to notice the way Puck's shoulder's drooped a little. "Would you like me to give her a message?"

"Nah, no, it's cool," Puck ran a hand over his mohawk, staring at the locker above Harry's head. "I mean, you can, like, tell her I said hi? If you want to. I don't really care. Just - whatever."

_I know you don't care, Puck. That's why you ask after her every damn day. _

"Sure, okay," Harry shuffled his books, brushing some hair out of his eyes then pushing it back down automatically. "I'll see you in Literature?"

"I dunno. I might just go play Halo," Puck muttered, wandering away before Harry could respond. The wizard shook his head.

"Puck still pining for Hermione?" Kurt voice said from behind him. Harry nodded and looked over his shoulder, smiling at his boyfriend a little wryly.

"I would be a lot more sympathetic if he'd just admit it. Instead I get, 'Oh, I don't care about her at all, but please tell me what she's doing and who she's seeing and whether she's talked about me,'" Harry shook his head, taking Kurt's hand and beginning the trek down the corridor. "All I can think is, 'Just admit that you're crushing on her and I might help you, dammit!'"

"Has she mentioned him?" Kurt asked curiously. Harry shook his head.

"Once, in passing, when she mentioned that she was glad that she'd relieved the pressure before going back to work. I doubt she's been thinking about him much, other than to wish she had someone like him to have around," Kurt grinned at Harry's sigh. "I almost wish she would, so I could have an excuse to give him her number and get out of the middle of this little half-romance."

"Why don't you suggest to her that you give her his number so they can talk?" Kurt suggested, clarifying with a blush at Harry's odd look. "I mean, he can't see her but phone sex is always an option..."


	18. AN and Harry Vs Tubbington: A Drabble

**(A/N: **Second Anonymity 'verse one-shot it up, guys! It's called In Which Burt is Wrong (And Remus is Crazy) and it takes a look into Burt's head during the infamous outing scene. Now here enjoy a little drabble (because fuck it, if it's under 1000 words it's a drabble for me) about Harry having to face Lord Tubbington to comfort Brittany (you guys, I don't even know). **)**

* * *

"Are you a wizard?"

Harry froze at the sound of the deadpan voice behind him. He turned around in his seat in the choir room, looking over his shoulder to where Brittany was staring at him with interest. He raised an eyebrow, exchanging a puzzled look with Santana and Kurt before answering slowly, "Um... no, Brittany. I'm not. Why do you ask?"

"Lord Tubbington said you were," she told him seriously, and Santana shut her eyes, slowly putting the hand that wasn't holding Brittany's over her face. Harry looked at Kurt for clues.

"Her cat," the countertenor explained, his voice carefully even. Harry nodded.

"I see," he turned back to Brittany, looking at her a little more carefully than usual. He couldn't see anything in her eyes to indicate she actually knew what was going on, though. "Well, he was wrong. Maybe I should have a chat to him, reassure him that I'm not?"

"That's probably a good idea," Brittany nodded seriously, frowning a little. "He's been getting really stressed about it. He doesn't want you to turn me into a frog, because then he'd want to eat me."

"Well, I promise you I can't do that," Harry assured you, mentally adding. _Seriously. I never was much good at living Transfiguration._"Can I come over this afternoon, have a chat to him?"

Brittany nodded and went back to kissing the now grimacing Santana. Kurt shot Harry an impressed look.

"You're really good with her," he commented softly, taking Harry's hand in his. Harry shrugged.

"She reminds me of my friend Luna, only Luna was really smart," he muttered back. "She'd say stuff like that pretty often, though. She just had a very different way of looking at the world. Funny thing, though, because she was always looking from a unique point of view she often noticed things that no one else did. Brittany's cat might be sick or something. It's probably best someone check."

_Or Brittany's cat could be an Animagus, and it's probably best to make sure he's not._

"Good thinking," Kurt agreed, but he grinned a little. "Good job not reacting to the name, though. She's very defensive of Lord Tubbington."

"He's in my room," Brittany informed Harry as she led him up to her room. Harry just nodded, still recovering from watching Mr Pierce explain to Mrs Pierce that she couldn't change the channel on the TV with a banana. Lord Tubbington was sitting on the centre of Brittany's bed when they walked in, and Harry sighed when he saw it.

_Yep, that's part-Kneazle. Here's to hoping it's just a coincidence and this isn't a secretly Wizarding family._

"Where'd you get him, Brittany?" Harry asked idly as he wandered over to pet the part-Kneazle's fur. Brittany shrugged.

"I found him in the park when I was five. He followed me home," She sat down on the cat's other side, scratching his ears with Harry. "Are you going to tell him you're not a wizard now?"

"Sure," Harry agreed, wincing a little when the cat dug a claw into Harry's finger. "Lord Tubbington-"

The cat seemed to wince at the name, and Harry shot it an apologetic look.

"I just want to assure you that I am not a wizard," here the part-Kneazle shot Harry a truly disbelieving look, and he shrugged. "I can't turn Brittany into a toad, and I wouldn't even if I could. We're friends, and I like her very much."

He tried not to fidget under the suspicious stare of the highly intelligent animal, sighing with relief when it started purring and kneading the bed, "I think he's okay with me now."

"That's good," Brittany muttered, squinting at her TV across the room. She pressed firmly at the buttons on her calculator, trying to turn the television on. "Hey, I think my TV is broken. Hold on, I have to go and get my dad."

Harry stifled a sigh until the girl walked out of the room. He and Lord Tubbington let out identical breaths as soon as she closed her door, and they shared a look. Harry scratched the part-Kneazle behind the ears in commiseration, "You're the brains of the operation, huh?"

The cat seemed to purr in agreement, and Harry sighed, "Though let's be honest, you may still have been if you were a normal cat."


	19. AN and Luna: a Drabble

A/N: I LIVE! The sequel is coming, I promise! It's no more than two weeks away before I'll be comfortable to publish the first chapter.

**THERE IS A REASON IT HAS TAKEN SO LONG!** My sister and I have been busy at work on a side project: (W)(W)(W)(DOT)TRUEGLEE(DOT)(NET). It's a website created by us to host our stories and post recommendations for Glee and True Blood. Before you ask, yes, I do know that that is the most random and ill-fitting of all possible fandom pairings, but I like GLee, she likes True Blood, it's what happened.

TrueGlee dot net will eventually have exclusive one-shots and art relating to the Anonymity 'Verse. Right now it kind of sucks because my sister is busy and I suck at website design, but please, please check it out anyway. We eventually plan to have blogs and forums about True Blood, Glee, and fandom related things, so watch that space. Now, drabble!

* * *

"So I think what we really need to consider for Regionals is harmony. We have a great range of voices, we should be utilising that," Mr Schuester urged the club, waving his hands around excitably, the word REGIONALS scrawled across the whiteboard in black marker. Harry was tracing absent patterns on the back of Kurt's arm as the teacher continued to expand on his ideas, using phrases and examples that made sense to Rachel and Kurt, but not so much to anyone else. The teenage wizard only glanced up when the teacher stopped, cutting himself off midway through an explanation of the use of harmonies in something called The Baker's Wife to shoot a confused frown to the back of the room.

"Uh," the teacher trailed off, forcing a puzzled smile to his face. "Hi. How long have you been there for?"

"A few moments," and airy voice drifted from the back of the choir room, and Harry whirled around in his seat. A girl had appeared in the back row, a girl with straggly dirty blonde hair and wide grey blue eyes. She wore three petticoats over leggings, a lace dress over long sleeves, and nothing on her feet but a toe ring. Luna Lovegood was sitting cross-legged on the chair next to Brittany, apparently unconcerned by the confused and startled glances of the Glee kids around her. "I got here rather earlier than I expected and didn't want to interrupt."

"Okay, but who are you, exactly?" Mr Schuester looked cautiously at the girl, obviously taking in the bottle caps around her neck and the fact that not one item of clothing she wore was the same colour. Harry grinned a little as Luna just continued to stare at the teacher with wide, thoughtful eyes, making the man shift uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, but you're not a student here, are you?"

"No," Luna confirmed. She didn't elaborate, instead turning to stare at Brittany, who stared right back. Knowing that they could be stuck like that for a while, Harry spoke up, getting to his feet.

"She's a friend of mine, Mr Schue. I'm sorry, I didn't know she was coming. Luna?"

She looked over when he spoke, smiling vaguely and tucking her wand (charmed to look like a stick of liquorice for some reason) further behind her ear.

_Actually, knowing Luna, it could be a real stick of liquorice. God knows where her wand is._

"Hello, Harry," she held out her arms until he scurried up to hug her. "You're not easy to find, you know. Eventually I had to ask a ladybug."

There was a pause as Harry thought that over, before asking, "Do you mean, an actual ladybug, or is that a metaphor for something?"

Luna looked at him like he was quite simple, "What could that possibly be a metaphor for, Harry? I just went to the garden and asked a ladybug. They're excellent trackers, but rather rude, so I don't like speaking to them often."

"Of course. How silly of me," Harry nodded sagely, pointedly ignoring the incredulous looks around him. He stood back and gestured to Luna, shooting the club a weak smile. "Guys, this is Luna. She's an old friend of mine. Sorry for the interruption, I didn't realise she was coming to visit."

Luna waved at them all, staring intently at the fluorescent light above Harry's head, and the wizard picked at a thread of his shirt nervously. There was an awkward pause, before Kurt noted, "Is this the girl who you thought... resembled Brittany, Harry?"

"Yeah, this is her," Harry agreed, glancing between the blank stare of Brittany and the focused but slightly odd stare of Luna. "I mean, it's not a perfect comparison, but I'm sure you can see where I'm coming from."

"Uh huh," Kurt agreed dryly, reaching over to tap Luna's knee. Once he had her attention (such as it was) he offered her his hand and a smile. "Hello, Luna. It's lovely to meet you. I'm Kurt."

Luna took his hand delicately and shook it, "Hello, Kurt. It is very nice to meet you too."

She rose to her bare feet after that, smoothing out her yellow and purple petticoats and giving a little curtsey to the group, "I shan't distract you any longer. I just wanted to give Harry this."

She pulled out a cork from a little velvet pouch on her hip and gingerly handed it to Harry. Harry could feel magic surround it, could feel his skin prickle and twitch at first contact with it, but to the muggles it would just have seemed like an ordinary cork. Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to Luna's cheek.

"Thank you, Luna," he whispered in her ear. She nodded seriously.

"It's my own invention. Watch it tonight, at midnight," she instructed, before wandering out of the room without another word. Harry waved at her back with a fond smile, before blushing as the eyes of the rest of the room fastened on him.

"Well that was unexpected," Artie commented eventually, his deadpan expression making Harry grin.

"That's Luna for you," he shrugged, running his hands over the magically charged cork reverently_. I wonder what it's going to do? _

"Did she just fly over from England to give you a cork?" Quinn asked, sounding utterly flummoxed. Harry laughed a little.

"Yeah, I don't know either," he shrugged, slipping the enchanted cork into his pocket and sitting down again. "I'm really sorry for the interruption, Mr Schuester, I had no idea she was even in the country."

"That's... all right, Harry," the teacher assured him after a stunned pause. "Will she, uh - will she be okay? On her own? Is there anyone... with her?"

"Her father might be around, but it's also very possible she's on her own," Harry shrugged, carefully stashing the cork in his bag before shooting the teacher a reassuring smile. "She'll be fine. She's a bit... odd, but she can take care of herself."

"If you're sure," the teacher nodded reluctantly, slowly turning back to the whiteboard. "Where was I?"

"You were explaining how the harmonies in The Baker's Wife enriched the purity of the melodies, Mr Schue, and I for one would have to agree," Rachel jumped in, launching into a lengthy diatribe on something not even Kurt could keep up with. Harry just shrugged and shot his boyfriend a small smile. Later, at precisely midnight when Harry's room lit up with colours that shifted into animals that danced around his room from an unassuming cork on his desk, Harry couldn't help but think that keeping up with some people was overrated. _Better to let them go at their own pace._


	20. SEQUEL and Care Package: A Drabble

A/N: This drabble (which I wrote in the last 15 minutes) is just to let everyone know that **THE SEQUEL IS UP!**

* * *

"So," Kurt began, shooting Harry a curious look. "You-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry interrupted, his voice firm. Kurt quirked an eyebrow, his mouth trembling with repressed mirth, and he nodded sagely.

"Okay, sweetie, if you say so," he soothed his boyfriend, patting the short boy on the hand placating. He shifted a little on Harry's couch, looking over the partially singed box on his coffee table. "But you should probably know, if you don't explain it to me I'm just going to assume the worst..."

"Look, Ron has these brothers, all right?" Harry burst out, his face flaming. "Well, he has five brothers, but two in particular - twins, their names are Fred and George - they're pranksters. Always have been."

"Uh-huh," Kurt shot Harry a droll look. Harry sighed and rubbed his face.

"No, really. They run a joke shop and everything. They're the ones who sent me all those sequins when I joined Glee."

"Oh, they're who I have to thank? I've almost finished the Cher Tribute costumes with them."

"Yeah, they thought it was very clever," Harry agreed, shooting the box on the table another furious, mortified glance. "So when they found out I was dating a boy..."

"They thought it would be clever to send you 18lbs of gay pornography?" Kurt finished, blushing even as he smirked. Harry sighed, letting his hands fall to his hands and his chin drop to his chest.

"Yes."

"And you, upon opening the box and seeing what was in it, decided that setting it on fire in your living room was the best course of action?" Kurt continued, shaking his head at Harry's slightly guilty look.

_Well, I actually ignited the box with accidental magic when I realised what I was looking at, but_, "Pretty much, yeah. I panicked, okay?"

Kurt muffled his laughter in his hands as Harry huffed, "All right, not my brightest move, but at least I got it out before anything else caught alight. Credit where credit is due."

"Yes, dear, you are indeed an intellectual for the ages," Kurt stood up and stretched. "I'm telling you now, though, no matter how cute you are, I am not helping you carry your box of burnt pornos to the bin."

"That's fair. Why don't you pick a film? I'll be back in a minute," Harry pressed a kiss to Kurt's cheek as he grabbed the box and made his way out of the room. He ran into Remus in the hallway and sighed at the man's confused expression.

"Uh, Harry? What's-"

"Don't ask," Harry grumbled, kicking open the front door. "I don't want to talk about it."


End file.
